Battlestar Galactica:  When Thunder Strikes
by Firematt97
Summary: While fleeing for their very lives, the crew of the last Battlestar, Galactica, find themselves facing a new threat, murder on their own ship. When a violent, splinter resistance group from New Caprica resurfaces, Admiral Adama has his hands full.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: Matthew C. Manni**

**Email: **

**Rating: M**

**Genre: Science Fiction**

_Editor's note: This fanfic is a stand alone story starring Silver Spar squadron leader Matthew "Hephaestus" Lensherr of the Battlestar Galactica. This story has no continuity to my current fanfic (The Hephaestus Chronicles) or any of my previous fanfics._

_While fleeing for their very lives, the crew of the last Battlestar, Galactica, find themselves facing a new threat, murder on their own ship. When a violent, splinter resistance group from New Caprica resurfaces, Admiral Adama has his hands full._

** When Thunder Strikes**

Chapter 1.

The chronometer on the wall slowly ticked by, the silence was deafening, as the two sat across from each other at the president's desk aboard _Colonial 1_, neither looked entirely pleased. President Laura Roslin and Matthew Lensherr had become friends during their time on New Caprica. She had lost the presidency to Baltar, and soon reclaimed it.

"So that's your final answer Madam President?" asked Lensherr angrily.

"Matthew, what is going through your gods-damned mind? There is no way Admiral Adama is going to release D'Anna into your custody, she's a Cylon and this office does not interfere with military decisions made by Bill Adama!"

"Yes she's a Cylon, one that was instrumental in helping us escape New Caprica! For a former school teacher, you don't pay very good attention to detail." Sniffed Lensherr, obviously hurt by Laura's lack of enthusiasm for his concerns.

Irritated by Matt's obvious lack of respect for her position, Laura took a deep breath and replied. "You arrogant smart ass, I guess you can take the man out of Aerilon, but you can't take Aerilon out of the man, you know full well that she's lucky Adama hasn't shoved her ass out the nearest airlock. You are making waves Matt…the old man knows you took this trip, and called me prior to the meeting. He is not happy! You of all people should know that he is not going to appreciate your attempts to circumvent his decision. It pains me to say my hands are tied in this matter." Said Laura sadly. She could see the hurt in her friend's eyes and knew that this would most likely not end well.

"Your hands didn't seem too tied to get your hands on that black market bottle of vintage Caprican ambrosia!" shot back Lensherr motioning to the serving tray on a side table containing the rare bottle as he stood up to leave.

"Be careful Matt, the toes of the leg you step on today might be connected to the ass you might have to kiss tomorrow!"

"_D'Anna isn't like the rest of them!" _snapped Matt.

"Has it ever dawned on you that perhaps that holding cell is the safest place for her right now? There are too many raw emotions and bad memories from New Caprica for many people in this fleet. Any one of them would love to take their aggression out on a skin job, even one that might have helped save their collective asses. Think about that before you leave here and do something truly stupid. I'm your friend, and the hatch to this office is always open to you Matt, please don't forget that."

Lensherr walked out of the office without a reply, deep down he knew she was right. Laura Roslin massaged her temples, "that went well." she said to herself sarcastically. She had grown close to Matt during the first few months on New Caprica, not in a romantic way, but in a platonic way. After the Cylons showed up, forcing the orbiting fleet to abandon them temporarily, Matt had worked very hard to assist Laura with her then fledgling school when not working with the resistance. She liked him very much, even if she couldn't understand his love for D'Anna Biers, whose identity as a Cylon agent was revealed at the time of the New Caprica occupation.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

During the time spent on New Caprica, a small band of men teamed up to fight against what was becoming a regular occurrence, collaboration with the Cylon occupation force by humans. They were not part of the official resistance group led by Colonel Tigh, nor were their actions fully condoned. There were no more than twelve in number, and they dealt with collaborators ruthlessly and only once. Their victims were usually found with a lightning bolt carved into their foreheads and tongue cut out. These men were known only as the _"Thunderbolts of Zeus,"_ and they were feared. At least 70-suspected collaborators were executed during the stay on New Caprica, and nothing had been heard from them since the second exodus, until now.

Shuttle 2417 was on final approach to _Galactica's_ immense landing bay. The shuttle had a maximum capacity of 20 passengers, and today the shuttle was only half-full. Captain Matthew Lensherr sat upright in his seat; he was unaccustomed to landing aboard his Battlestar in this fashion. He was used to a small cramped cockpit of a viper, with his hands at the controls. This trip had been a mistake he realized the moment he left the President's office aboard _Colonial 1_. Laura had been no help at all, and he cursed himself for letting himself believe that it could have gone any other way.

He watched as the shuttle entered the cavernous opening of the port landing bay and came to a smooth landing in the assigned docking slot. An environmental docking collar extended from the wall and attached itself to the hatch. The shuttle was too large to be brought down into the hanger bay, and this was far easier than the time having to wait to re-pressurize the entire bay. There was heavy traffic to and from _Galactica_ today so the docking collar was the means of egress.

Lensherr exited the shuttle and preceded down the 40-foot tube into entry hatch 22, he was not surprised to see Major Lee Adama waiting for him. Adama was _Galactica's_ CAG, and he was not happy.

"Have a good trip to _Colonial 1_, Hephaestus?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"Could have been better sir!" replied Lensherr off offhandedly.

Apollo leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Save the smart ass replies Matt, the old man is fraking livid that you went around his decision to get that toaster in the brig released. What in the name of all the fraking Lords of Kobol were you thinking?"

"Apparently I was thinking that common sense could prevail and we could lighten up on the woman who helped us fraking escape New Caprica." Said Lensherr bitterly.

"That isn't a woman, Matt! It's a thing, a machine, a cold-blooded killer. My gods man, half the crew would like to airlock her ass, and yours too."

"Well they're welcome to try anytime!" challenged Hephaestus.

"Calm down Matt, I'm not one of them, but damn if I can figure out how you could have feelings for one of them." Said Apollo exasperated. "Look…the old man hates Cylons, and worse than Cylons he hates collaborators. I realize you didn't fit that bill during the time under occupation, but my father can't make heads or tails of you. You are one of my best pilots, and an incredible squadron leader, that and me going to bat for you is what is saving you from joining that toaster in the brig. Consider yourself restricted to the pilot's quarters when not on duty for the next 2 weeks…and consider that a gift!" The CAG departed without another word, or waiting for one from Lensherr.

Matt walked towards the officer's lounge that fell within his restrictions. The room fell quiet when he walked in. Silver Spar squadron was on duty that night so none of his pilots would be there now. The room was filled with pilots from Red and Blue squadrons, three of which met Matt when he approached the bar.

"You got a lot of balls walking in here Hephaestus. This is a humans-only bar." Said the slightly drunken viper pilot.

"When I want your fraking opinion I'll tell you what it is, Lieutenant!" replied Lensherr elbowing the man aside. He soon felt himself being spun around by the hand on his shoulder. The same drunken viper pilot was inches from his face, the room was deathly silent.

"Care to step outside, Cylon lover?" he sneered.

"I don't have to step outside…I'll fight all fraking three of you right here and now!" said Lensherr. He turned towards the man from Blue squadron while sticking his finger in the drunken pilot's chest and said, "he's first, you're next…after you see what I do to him you can then decide if you want to continue this felgercarb." The drunk from Red Aces squadron did not take too kindly to the threat or to the chuckles from the rest of the room. He lunged at Lensherr and struck a glancing blow to the right side of his face. Lensherr quickly recovered and drove a spear-finger into the man's trachea. He dropped to the floor immediately clutching his throat, gasping for air.

Lieutenant Tony "Falcon" Bastain; also from Red Aces squadron, leaped between the two men. "No need for this to get serious Captain, you made your point."

"Have I Falcon? I didn't know I had to explain myself to him, you, or anyone else on this fraking Battlestar. What I do know is that this tough guy started it, and I finished it. Get him the hell out of here before I send him to Cottle with something more serious." Ordered Lensherr, who then walked out of the lounge. He heard the murmurs from the room as he left; his popularity was not what it once was.

**Galactica CIC 1600 hours.**

Adama glanced at his wrist chronometer as his relief walked through the hatch. Punctual as always he thought to himself. Colonel Tigh stepped up to the plotting table.

"Good evening Admiral, your stand relieved!"

"Very good XO, you have the con." The two men exchanged further information regarding the change of command and Adama soon departed with his Marine escort. The walk from CIC to his private quarters was a short one purposely planned by the engineers who designed the Battlestar. William Adama's private quarters were larger than the 8-man staterooms assigned to most of the crew. An antique desk carved from ultra dense Picon timber was his pride and joy, that and a soft leather couch and chair were the only luxuries he allowed himself upon taking command of _Galactica_.

He sat down behind the desk and opened a drawer lined with soft sheepskin. He pulled a large bottle of 120 proof whiskey from his home world and poured himself a glass. He picked up the personnel file that lay upon his desk and continued his reading on one Captain Matthew Lensherr.

Colonel Tigh always made it a point to stop at each station in the CIC when he had the watch. He stopped at the tactical station to speak with Lt. Gaeta. "Good evening Lieutenant, what is the fleet's status?"

"Good evening XO, long range scans have picked up no contacts of any kind in this quadrant, Silver Spar squadron currently has the CAP and the Alert assignment, all civilian ships have reported in, no problems worthy of our intervention."

"Always a good thing to hear Lieutenant, carry on."

**Galactica Brig**.

Captain Jon "Peacemaker" Horlach walked into the outer chamber and stood by the phone. D'Anna was surprised to see Horlach there and quickly retrieved her phone from the cradle.

"Hello D'Anna, Matt asked me to come down and tell you that he will be unable to come down here for the next two weeks. He has been confined to quarters when off duty." Informed Peacemaker.

"What…Why, what happened?" asked a confused D'Anna.

"Well Matt didn't authorize me to say anything more, but I will tell you that it was because he was trying to get you released from here by going over the old man's head. It didn't go over well."

D'Anna closed her eyes and shook her head gently. "What was he thinking? I'm safer here than out there, doesn't he understand that?"

"Gods only know what he's thinking, especially where you're concerned." Said Jon flatly.

"You don't like me very much, do you Peacemaker?"

"I would be lying if I said no." he replied tersely. "Look, as far as I'm concerned you're a Cylon…the enemy. My wife and family are dead because of you and your kind, so no…I really do not like you that much at all. That being said, Matt Lensherr is my friend, and he asked me to come here to pass the message along. There are many people aboard this Battlestar that would sooner see that pretty little throat of yours cut than have you consume our food and oxygen, so consider yourself lucky that someone like Matt loves you. Don't make him regret getting you off New Caprica; your relationship hasn't made him many friends."

Jon Horlach replaced the receiver and exited the brig. D'Anna walked away from the wall; she started to circle the cell and resumed her projections. The act of Cylon projection was a Cylon ability that allowed them to consciously induce an extraordinarily realistic hallucination in the form of an artificial environment around themselves, which they can choose to share with other Cylons if they chose to. D'Anna used this ability as a way to detach herself from the reality of the dank Battlestar brig that she was forced to live in. This way she could experience the world around her as she wished to, rather than how it is, serving as a psychological comfort.

She walked down the black tiled floor in her high heels, very few women possessed the ability to walk in the heels she wore with absolute perfection and grace. The short black cocktail dress clung to her well-toned body like a glove as she rounded the corner and she entered the bedroom that she shared with Matt. The four-poster bed was handcrafted by the finest Caprican carpenters and the remaining furnishings just as exquisite. She took off her shoes and slowly slipped out of her dress. Standing there in her lace bra and panties, she pulled back the silk sheets and slipped underneath them. Closing her eyes, she was soon asleep. The Marine guard monitoring her cell stared at the scene on the monitor bewildered. "What the frak was that all about? He mused.

Silver Spar's assistant squadron leader Lt. Steve "Photon" Parsec was flying CAP alongside Junior Lieutenant Issa "Eos" Nimoy. This system was beautiful he thought, a colorful nebula made up for lack of nearby planets or planetoids.

"You alive out there Eos?" said Photon over the comline.

"Yes sir! I'm just admiring the view." They were traveling alongside the _Gemenon freighter_, which was the last ship in the convoy when their Dradis sounded.

"Skipper, I'm picking up intermittent contacts on the Dradis…bearing 271 carom 895."

Photon was seeing the same contacts flash on and off the dradis screen, and adjusted the resolution on the screen to try to determine what the contacts might be.

"CAP-_Galactica_…you have inbound contacts now bearing 274 carom 997. You are instructed to intercept and identify immediately. Alert fighters are being launched." Said Dualla over the scrambled comline.

Matt Lensherr just laid his head on the pillow when the klaxon sounded; he leaped to his feet and ran for the door.

"_Action stations, action stations…set condition one throughout the ship, all alert pilots to their vipers!"_

The remaining eight vipers that made up Silver Spar squadron were assigned to alert status that shift and their vipers were already prepped for immediate launch just waiting for their human pilots to arrive. Lensherr took the helmet held out to him by his crew chief and scrambled up into the cockpit of his aging Mk. II viper christened _Nemesis._

He switched on his internal comline with the SHOOTER who was in the launch control booth to his right. "What have we got shooter?" He asked as the cockpit canopy slid forward and locked into place.

"Two to four intermittent dradis contacts closing on the fleet, the CAP is closing on an intercept course. Hephaestus your mag-lock is secure, all systems green and you are cleared for launch…good hunting!" The shooter pushes the launch button and the massive catapults hurls 40,000 pounds worth of viper down the launch tube out into space. Lensherr immediately kicks in the turbos of his Voram engines and races to assist the CAP while the remaining alert vipers scramble.

Assistant squadron leader Parsec switches settings on his targeting computer and the contact immediately displays a Cylon IFF. "Frak, they're Cylons!" he exclaims. "_Galactica_ – Photon…war-book positively identifies as Cylon raiders, Eos and I are engaging."

Back aboard _Galactica_ Colonel Tigh had just ordered the fleet to jump to emergency coordinates when Adama stepped through the hatch and walked up to the plotting table. "Retain the con XO, I couldn't sleep and decided to check out the action, as usual you have things well in hand." Said Adama looking up at the suspended Dradis console.

"Four Cylon raiders on an intercept course for the fleet, sir. All civilian ships have been instructed to jump to emergency coordinates and alert vipers have been scrambled. Providing none of the raiders jump away to warn their baseship, or enemy reinforcements arriving I'm going to hold the response to just the alert fighters in order to reclaim them expeditiously when the fleet is safely away."

Adama merely nodded in approval, words were seldom needed between the two, they had been friends for decades, and worked together almost as long. They knew what each others move would be long before it happened, they were a great team.

Lt. Issa "Eos" Nimoy pulled the trigger on her joystick, unleashing a lethal barrage of fire down range towards the oncoming raider. The raider tilted its wing allowing the rounds to pass within inches without striking it. The bio-mechanical being released its own offensive weaponry, which struck a glancing blow to the high port engine intake. "Oh frak me, slit-eyed bastard got lucky!"

"Keep it tight Eos, we'll make it, the alert fighters are one minute out." Cautioned Photon. Steve Parsec obliterated the raider with his first shot. Of course he had years of experience on the junior lieutenant who was his wing man, and knew how to compensate for the raider's quick movements. On her second attempt, Eos had cut a raider in two, leaving blood, tissue and metal fragments splattered across her cockpit as she flew through the debris field.

"Good kill Eos, two down and two to go!" said Photon.

Aboard _Galactica_, Colonel Tigh was monitoring the com chatter when Lt. Dualla informed him that all civilian ships were safely away. A new contact emerged; a Basestar, and it immediately launched its full contingent of raiders coming out of the jump. "New contact…enemy basestar bearing 270 carom 998, they're launching raiders."

"Lt. Dualla, recall our fighters immediately. No sense in engaging these odds, the fleet is safely away." Ordered Tigh.

Lensherr lost track of the emerging contacts filling his screen, there were too many raiders on an intercept course and only the alert vipers were airborne. The recall was a welcome communique.

"_Galactica to all vipers…break off engagement and come on home…repeat…break off engagement and come on home, combat landings are authorized."_

The two vipers from the CAP and alert vipers reversed course and sped for home with a swarm of raiders in pursuit. Eos and Photon were able to destroy the original raider patrol before the alert vipers arrived on station and none wanted to tangle with these fresh raiders.

**Galactica CIC**.

"Weapons prepare to fire defensive batteries, select fire only. Our pilots have a decent lead on the incoming raiders but I want some breathing room when we retract the pods in order to jump away." Ordered Tigh.

Adama remained silent as his number two issued crisp commands, Tigh was an extension of William Adama, whatever the situation, and he always remained cool, calm and fully collected. He regretted that his old friend would never command his own Battlestar, not unless they ever reconstituted their long dead space fleet.

"Viper 2611 on approach…" reported tactical.

Adama leaned in close to Tigh. "I would suggest retracting the pods when you're three vipers left to land, this is going to be tight; the raiders have increased their speed."

Lensherr chopped his speed and cleared the approach lane to _Galactica's_ landing bay. Utilizing his maneuvering thrusters, he held his position to ensure all of his pilots were aboard before finally landing himself. He normally did this, and it was just one of many reasons why the pilots respected him.

The massive flight pods had begun to retract in order for the ship to be able to make a faster-than-light jump, _Galactica_ was the oldest front-line Battlestar in the fleet before the attack. Every single Battlestar of that class had been decommissioned and the newer Mercury-class Battlestars were built with fixed flight pods. Stingray was the last viper in, and Lensherr bolted through the almost fully closed opening to come to a landing. All pilots remained in their cockpits as the mighty Battlestar vanished in the glow of her FTL jump.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

_**From the Adama Journals:**_

_**Luck has once again shined upon Galactica and her civilian fleet, having encountered a Cylon patrol we were able to escape with no loss of life. The star system we have arrived in is unique according to shipboard astronomers. The system**_ _**is unusual, because it is a "**__**yellow super giant eclipsing binary**__**." Meaning it contains two very bright, massive yellow stars that are very closely orbiting each other. **_

_**The system contains half a dozen small planetoids, and two larger planets, we have dispatched Raptor teams to investigate the two larger planets in search of badly needed materials such as water, iron ore, tylium and algae to process into foodstuff.**_

_**The Cylon we have in custody has caused a bit of a stir amongst certain elements of the crew who would prefer that she be executed. I have made it clear to said individuals that I consider this prisoner a military asset and she will remain safe, healthy and in our brig. I have been petitioned by Captain Matthew Lensherr on numerous occasions to either release the Cylon to his custody, or grant more freedoms and/or privileges. I believe there was some sort of romantic relationship between the two while on New Caprica, and while the Cylon known as D'Anna Biers was instrumental in our escape from occupied New Caprica, I have not deviated, nor intend to, on her status at this point. Apparently, this was not satisfactory to Captain Lensherr and he attempted to have the president intercede for him.**_

_**With no surprise, President Laura Roslin refused to intervene in a military matter and I have advised the CAG to deal with this lapse in military protocol and judgment on Captain Lensherr's behalf. Lensherr is fine officer, and squadron leader, and no written reprimand will be placed in his jacket at this time.**_

Matthew Lensherr had just shut the water off to the shower, pulling back the curtain he stepped out and threw on some workout pants after toweling off. The mirror in the latrine was cracked, but you could still shave to it. The overhead lights started to flicker and then abruptly shut off. He swore to himself and felt his way over to the wall containing the light switch. Odd, the light was switched off, he turned it back on and was startled to see four men wearing black ski masks, they must have been hiding in the latrine stalls. The one closest to Lensherr sucker punched him in the face before he could say or do anything. Before he knew it, he was face down on the floor being punched and kicked by the men above him.

"There's no place on a Battlestar for a Cylon loving collaborator, you fraking piece of garbage!" yelled the man in Lensherr's ear. "Your girlfriend and her people nearly wiped out the entire human race…this is where the Thunderbolts of Zeus balance the scales!" Matt's eyes widened when he saw the long silver blade flash before his eyes. A gloved hand forced its way into his mouth and grabbed his tongue. Matt knew the reputation of these men, and was not going to allow his tongue to be cut out. He drove his heel into the shin of the closest man who promptly screamed out in pain. That earned him a crushing blow to the solar plexus, knocking the wind and fight clear out of him. The hatch opened, and Jon Horlach was aghast at what he was witnessing.

"What the frak is going on here?" he demanded. A large masked attacker lunged at him and Jon's years of training as a Libran Police officer kicked in automatically. He blocked the attacker's knife by using an outward forearm block. The knife clattered to the floor under one of the stalls. He quickly followed up with a palm strike to the chin that snapped the man's head back putting some distance between the two.

The man holding Lensherr down whispered into his ear saying, "This is far from over traitor, we will finish this, and justice will be served!" Another man heaved a trash receptacle at Horlach striking him dead center in the chest knocking him down. The lights went out and the men disappeared leaving a stunned Horlach and a badly beaten Lensherr on the floor.

**Galactica sickbay.**

Admiral Adama stood at the end of the bed listening to Lensherr recount the details to the Marine non-commissioned officer in charge of the investigation of the attack on two colonial officers.

At the mention of the "Thunderbolts of Zeus," Adama shot Tigh a surprised look. "That group caused enough trouble on New Caprica; don't tell me they've started back up again." The Marine non-com turned her attention towards the Admiral.

"Sir, information on the 'Thunderbolts of Zeus' are sketchy at best, all we know is that their numbers are incredibly small, and secrecy is apparently a core requirement due to the almost total lack of information we have on them. Their M.O. on New Caprica had been to execute alleged collaborators by cutting out their tongues and carving a thunderbolt into the forehead of the victim."

"With this crude implement I gather!" said Tigh holding a dagger with a handle shaped like a thunderbolt inside of a plastic evidence bag.

"Exactly XO, I'm going to try and have our forensics section pick up anything from the weapon, but according to Captains Lensherr and Horlach all of the attackers were wearing gloves and masks." Replied the Marine investigator.

"Oh this is marvelous," grunted Adama shaking his head. "It's bad enough I've got your Cylon girlfriend aboard with everyone screaming to airlock her, now I've got these sickos reorganizing on board my Battlestar to dispense their warped version of retribution!" Adama turned to the doctor tending to his injured squadron leader. "How soon before he's able to return to flight status, doc?"

"My recommendation is two to three days, Admiral. The contusions to his ribs and left hand are pretty severe, he's lucky they didn't do anything worse."

"You're lucky Captain Horlach arrived when he did captain , otherwise you'd have a stylish tattoo placed on that thick skull of yours." Said Adama who then left without another word.

Jon was standing close by and waited for the remaining officers and investigator to depart. "The old man clearly thinks the world of you, Matt!" said Horlach sarcastically.

"Yeah, well my popularity is clearly on a downward slide. Thanks Jon, you most likely saved my life."

"Don't mention it, I'm worried about the resurrection of this group, they killed a lot of people on New Caprica, Matt." Replied Jon.

"How is it that they've been able to stay off dradis for so long, you would have thought that someone would have talked by now?"

"Observation number one…you were attacked on a military ship, hence the attackers are most likely part of this crew which means they are well-disciplined. This isn't good, it could be anyone."

"Gods know that there are quite a few people on board not too crazy about you right about now, Lensherr!" Came a new voice from behind the curtain. The white sheet was pulled back to reveal two more visitors, Captain Kara "Starbuck" Thrace of Blue squadron and Lieutenant Gwynn "Stingray" St. Clair.

Kara walked over and sat down on the edge of the gurney. "You look like shit." she observed dryly.

"Thanks, I think." replied Matt.

"Did they catch the guys who attacked you skipper?" asked Stingray.

"No, not even a clue who they might be, they wore black masks." Replied Matt.

"Just like those New Caprica Police scumbags." Observed Horlach. While Jon himself was a former police officer, he never considered those who joined the NCPD true police officers. He considered them traitors and collaborators who hunted down and persecuted their own people while hiding their identities behind black masks.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

The men had met in a secluded section of _Galactica_ that was seldom traveled. The leader was clearly not happy with the attack on Lensherr. "Hephaestus will be alert for anything now; Peacemaker's interference was unfortunate, perhaps we should keep a closer eye on him as well.

"We're going to lay low on Lensherr for the time being, until things calm down. The old man has investigators out in full force, and the last thing we needed was for that frakwit to lose his dagger!"

The large man got defensive as he leaped off the crate he was sitting on. "I was wearing gloves, and there is nothing to identify me inscribed on that weapon. I didn't count on anyone walking into the latrine at that time of the morning, if not for Peacemaker we would have sent our message without issue."

"Well what's done is done. Lensherr will be cautious, and we'll just have to bide our time with him. We'll go over the next few names on the list and take things slowly." Said the leader.

A few days have passed since Lensherr had been released from the infirmary; the Raptor teams under command of Captain Nina "Betty" Nintius had reached their assigned destinations and were maintaining a high orbit as they ran preliminary scans of the surface. In Raptor one, Nintius was holding position as her Electronics Countermeasure Officer known as the ECO ran his scans. Junior Lieutenant Nikos "Sleepwalker" Stratos was a former civilian pilot that volunteered for the Raptor program instituted by admiral Adama after escaping New Caprica. Six members of the Raptor wing had lost their lives, two under mysterious circumstances.

Stratos was adjusting well to the uniform, and had been given high ratings on all of his performance evaluations as an ECO. He set his scans to detect mineral deposits on the larger of the two planets.

"Betty, I'm reading an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere reading. The concentration is thin, but life could be sustained down there. A large body of water…most likely a high salinity composition." Reported Nikos.

"Sleepwalker I'm going to bring us down a little closer, which should sharpen up your scans a bit for a more accurate reading." Said Nina as she brought her Raptor down further into the outermost atmosphere. After an hour of cruising high above the planet, Sleepwalker reports that his scans are complete, and ready to download to Galactica for further interpretation. Nintius started to pull back on her stick when brilliant flashes of cannon fire crossed her observation windscreen.

"What the frak…?" she yelled as she looked about. "Where did that come from Sleepwalker, who's out there?"

"I have nothing on my Dradis, we're all alone up here." Said Nikos double-checking his instruments. The dradis was clean, there was nothing around them, yet they were being fired upon at close range.

Nintius was holding her position while at the same time prepping her FTL's to jump away. She then saw a black ship slide up to her port wing, an identical craft positioned itself on her starboard side. A third such craft positioned itself directly in front of her but high.

"Oh this is not good, these guys are on me tight, no telling what would happen if I jump, to them or us at this proximity. Why didn't the dradis pick them up, they're right on us?"

"Screens are still clear boss, these guys are either jamming our dradis with some sort of stealth tech or the composition of their metals is something our Dradis sweeps cannot lock onto."

"Nikos I want you to prep a com drone for launching, not sure if they're going to jam us, but I want one ready just in case." Nintius keyed her transmitter. "Krypter, krypter, krypter…Raptor 1 to _Galactica_…" A loud burst of distortion filled the earphones of each person in the raptor.

"They're jamming the transmission captain!"

A long high-pitched tone filled the comlines and then subsided to be followed up by a human voice.

"_Attention unidentified spacecraft…you have entered a restricted air space and are directed to maintain present course. You will be escorted to the surface where you are to land on the crimson-colored landing strip. Any attempts to deviate from the flight path will result in your destruction…please comply!"_

Nina and Nikos exchanged surprised looks with each other, the fact that they were not immediately blown out of the sky was a good sign, the fact that the voice they were hearing sounded human. Of course, the Cylons looked and sounded human now, but they had never been able to evade a dradis sweep, and these strange black aircraft was something neither had ever seen before. Nina wondered how they were able to transmit on a colonial military frequency, but just assumed that if they could transmit on that frequency, then they could receive on the same frequency.

Careful not to reveal too much, Nina merely acknowledged the black craft's transmission and followed the craft to the surface. The trip took roughly a half hour, and a long crimson landing strip came into view along the coastline. It was bordered by an immense city of wondrous architectural design. On final approach, she could not help but notice the sea of black fighters parked along the edge of the landing strip, there had to be over a thousand she thought. "Are you getting all of this on camera, Sleepwalker?"

"That's affirmative, the digitals are coming in nicely." He replied. "Should I launch that com drone?"

"No! They might interpret that as hostile and take us out. Wait until we get on the ground, and we'll activate the emergency distress beacon as we're exiting the Raptor, hopefully it won't be detected by whatever surveillance equipment they have right away."

One hundred feet off the ground, she saw a magnificent structure to her left, the building was huge, almost palatial. The grounds around it perfectly manicured with the strangest variety of trees and vegetation she had ever seen. "I doubt the Cylons built that." She quipped as she used her thrusters to slow her descent. "I hope these boys realize that we don't land like a viper!" Two of the black fighters split off and proceeded to land as the third remained aloft in the event the Raptor was going to make a break for it.

"We're being painted by their defenses, I'm getting a lock on us, but can't see from where." Informed Sleepwalker. Nina glanced around the area and was able to see exactly what was locking onto them. Large double-barreled ground fixed cannons were following their every move.

"Those are some pretty nasty guns pointing at us. Niko, what's our FTL status?" she asked. contemplating the idea of jumping away.

"I'd suggest keeping us right where we are Nina, FTL's are still online but fluctuating. Something on this rock might be interfering with our ability to jump. I was attempting to plot a jump back to orbit and leave these frakers scratching their heads but I keep getting a systems warning." Warned the rookie ECO.

"Frak me! Well that was a good idea rook, nice thinking. Let us just ride it out, and set off the distress beacon as we exit."

Bringing her 50-ton Raptor down vertically to the landing strip, Nina was surprised to see the four-wheeled vehicles approach at high speeds. Large turrets mounted on their top frame were pointed her way, and these vehicles were very similar to all terrain vehicles found in the Colonies with some distinct differences. About ten of these vehicles surrounded the Raptor, and heavily armed personnel exited those ten vehicles to take up position outside of the hatch. They were clad in black, much like the Marines aboard _Galactica_, but not weighed down by bulky LBE or Load Bearing Equipment, as it is officially known as.

"Alright Sleepwalker, when we depart keep your hands down, yet out to the sides so they can see your hands. Give only your name and rank, and for frak's sake let me do all the talking."

"It's all yours captain!" As the hatch slowly raised, Nina reached over and toggled the emergency distress beacon's activation switch on the ECO's panel. With luck, whatever was keeping the FTL computer from calculating a solid jump would not prevent the signal from reaching orbit. With sidearm still holstered, she exited the hatch first. She was glad she was wearing her flight suit and not utilities, the temperature was very cool, and the air she breathed in was thin. Humans could obviously survive here, but no marathons would be run by any means.

The sound of machine gun bolts being pulled back filled the area as the black clad humans slowly advanced. "On your knees!" directed the lead soldier calmly.

"You've heard that one before, eh boss?" quipped Nikos.

"Silence!" responded the same soldier looking directly at the ECO.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

**Battlestar Galactica – The Brig**

Matt held the receiver close to his ear, his palm pressed flat against the thick bulletproof class that separated him from D'Anna. His first day off restrictions and D'Anna was his first and only stop planned for the day.

"I hope you've grown eyes in the back of your head, Matthew. That attempt on your life by the Thunderbolts of Zeus will not be the last. That group killed so many of their brothers and sisters in the NCPD back on New Caprica merely for doing what they could to survive the occupation." Said D'Anna ruefully.

"In some corners, 'merely doing what they can to survive' is considered treason and collaboration with the enemy, punishable by death." Replied Lensherr with a smile.

"There is going to come a time when our two people are going to have to put hostilities, and the past aside in order for each race to survive, you realize that, do you not?"

"D'Anna I am not here to discuss human and Cylon relations with you, as it stands now, your race is hunting down my race with plans of extermination. Do you really think the humans want to entertain the thought of putting hostilities aside? They want revenge, a reckoning. New Caprica opened up so many wounds still raw from the attack and near eradication of our existence."

"Matthew, I've been having the strangest dreams, or perhaps visions. I 'see' our two races merging. When I wake up I have the barest recollection of what exactly transpired, but what does remain is that in time…our races become one."

"Oh I can see the reaction from Adama now." Said Matt shaking his head laughing.

"Remember my words…our two races _will_ eventually unite to become one." Replied D'Anna, her matter-of-factness left Lensherr uncomfortable, how could she possible know _that_ he thought to himself.

Lt. Jen "Lucky" Teal was coming in fast, her port engine would not shut down and it was taking all her strength to compensate with thrusters to keep the nose straight for her final approach. She had declared an emergency and was given priority clearance to land on landing bay alpha. While out on CAP she had kicked in her turbos to clear the flight path of a shuttle pilot who clearly was not paying attention and got too close. The port engine remained throttled up and would not shut down. Teal knew this landing could prove catastrophic if she made the slightest error.

"Viper 2187 – _Galactica_…you are cleared for final approach on landing bay alpha. Crash crew standing by…call the ball."

"_Galactica_ – viper 2187, I have the ball." The massive flight pod loomed before her, and it was taking all of her strength to keep the nose straight and up.

In the CIC, Admiral Adama was monitoring the situation closely. There were fewer emergencies more dangerous than a viper coming in for a landing with damaged engines. Had their been an automated landing system allowed on _Galactica_ the situation could have been handled much differently, but William Adama banned any type of networked system aboard his Battlestar the moment he took command of her.

"Admiral…Lucky is on final approach!" informed Dualla.

"Have the LSO bring her in, Lieutenant! Inform the crew chief of the crash crew that the deck is in their hands," ordered Adama.

Lt. Jen Teal watched as the deck of the massive Battlestar heaved up and down slowly from her perspective; this was not going to be an easy landing. She would have preferred to burn off her entire load of fuel then be towed in by Raptor, but she was carrying a maximum of fuel load. That and Chief of the deck Galen Tyrol frowned on that practice because of the extensive work that results in letting a viper suck dry its tank and allow particles and sludge that settles at the bottom of the tank to be sucked into the system.

She could see the heavy-duty emergency nets rise up from their housings beneath the flight deck to stop the viper's momentum in the event reverse thrusters or maneuvering thrusters fail to slow or stop the viper. Red colored crash trucks were parked to the side, magnetic locks keeping them from drifting away in the zero gravity of the open landing bay so they could assist with the rescue of the pilot.

"Viper 2187 this is LSO, you are cleared to land…good luck Lieutenant!"

"Roger that…get everyone out of the way, I'm coming in hot!" she replied to the landing signals officer. Jen was a member of Red Aces squadron; many of her fellow squad mates were lining the thick observation ports overlooking the landing bay. Lieutenant Steve "Photon" Parsec was watching nervously. The two had been 'involved' for some time; it was a poorly kept secret. He was the assistant squadron leader for Silver Spar squadron, so the rivalry would frequently surface. His palms were pressed against the thick glass as if he was trying to reach out to her and help guider her in.

The aging Mk II viper came in at a much higher speed than would normally be allowed for a non-combat landing. During a combat landing, there is usually no time to touch down slowly and precisely, fighters enter at a higher rate of speed and skid across the bay on their landing gear until halted by friction. The pilots usually have shut down their engines prior to touching down, unfortunately viper 2187 would not be able to throttle down and allow friction to stop it. Lt. Teal would need the safety net for that. The viper cleared the 60 meter high opening easily and traveled at least 100 meters before the landing gear struck the steel decking sending sparks everywhere. The thrust of the right engine made the viper spin counter-clock-wise across the deck and into the large reinforced steel safety net tearing off the port wing violently. The sudden stop was quite painful for the pilot who immediately blacked out.

Crash crews swarmed all over the viper, there was no oxygen atmosphere so there was little danger of fire, but they needed to get that engine shut down and pilot freed. The first emergency crew member popped the canopy after depressurizing it, and attempted to release the safety harness holding in the unconscious pilot. Shaking his helmeted head, he gestured for a second crew member that promptly moved in to cut the initiator hose that would eject the pilot in the event he or she pulled the yellow and black tee handle. With this kind of damage to the viper, they would take no chances with an accidental firing of the ejection seat that would seriously injure or kill any rescuer unfortunate enough to be over the cockpit.

With the ejection seat disabled, they were able to cut the safety harness and remove the pilot. The rescuers wearing magnetized boots effortlessly carried her over to a stretcher and proceeded into an airlock. The deck gang was able to shut down the damaged engine at the source. The emergency was over.

Raptor 3 was just beginning to run its scans of their assigned planet's surface when they picked up Raptor 1's distress call that was quickly terminated. Captain Elyssa "Poseidon" DeAlma's head snapped back to her ECO.

"That was Betty declaring an emergency before being cut off…can you raise Raptor 1 to confirm? Asked DeAlma. The ECO made three attempts to raise Raptor 1 when DeAlma altered course to head for the other planet, which was an hour out at top speed. The planet loomed large before them, and soon they were picking up their distress beacon.

"Emergency transponder from Raptor 1 is now active, captain." Informed the ECO.

"Automatic or manually activated Hustler?"

"It was manually activated!"

"Well if they crashed it would have been automatic, so it looks like someone was conscious and able to engage the distress. Try to raise them on the wireless."

"I've been trying ever since we received that Krypter message without success." Something wasn't feeling right about this, first the cut off Krypter message, followed by a distress beacon. It should be clear-cut, but something was not sitting well with the veteran Elyssa DeAlma.

"Alright Hustler, let's get some distance between us and this planet, we'll contact 'the bucket' and await the old man's orders." She pulled back on the stick and increased the Raptor's speed heading away from the planet and Raptor 1.

**Galactica – Combat Information Center**

Colonel Tigh had just finished updating the Admiral on the status of Lieutenant Teal along with the report from chief of the deck on the damage to the viper.

"Well the good thing is that our pilot is fine, but the damage to the bird is the last thing we need XO. How many birds is that now?" asked Adama.

"After departing New Caprica we had a total of 80 vipers between _Pegasus_ and _Galactica_, out of those 80 we have 10 down, two of which the chief informs me are held together with…fraking spit and bailing wire, I believe the exact quote was. Our total now stands at 11 vipers down. Lucky's viper requires extensive overhaul to the engines and the wing."

"Not many Vorax engines laying about, XO. Gods only know that the metals we need to patch the fuselages and other critical plating for various ships throughout the fleet are pretty damned scarce."

"Not a point I would disagree with, sir."

"Admiral Adama, we're receiving a priority call from Raptor 3." Adama was hoping that they would report success on their discovery of materials on their assigned planet.

"Patch it here, Dualla." Adama picked up the receiver mounted on the console of the plotting table. "Actual…go ahead Poseidon, what have you got for me?" William Adama frowned, his eyes squinting behind his glasses. "Understood, hold your position."

"Lieutenant Dualla, set condition two throughout the fleet, I want Raptor 4 and Red Aces squadron launched to rendezvous with Raptor 3 for a search and rescue mission of Raptor 1." Ordered Adama.

"Raptor 1 is down?" asked Tigh.

"Poseidon and Hustler received a distress call from Raptor 1, it was cut off immediately, but an hour later they received the emergency distress beacon that was manually activated. Poseidon thinks that Raptor 1 set down on the planet they were investigating. I ordered them to standby until a second raptor and viper escort arrives on station before returning to the larger planet."

"Colonel, I want the fleet to be prepared to get under way immediately in the event this is another Cylon trap. All air traffic is restricted to the CAP, and I want the other ship captains ready to jump at a moment's notice. This might be nothing more than a disabled Raptor, but I want to be prepared for anything."

"Understood Admiral."

Red Aces squadron was assigned to alert status that day, they were immediately launched and joined by Raptor 4. Silver Spar squadron was bumped up to fill the alert status. Captain Jon "Peacemaker" Horlach was in the lead viper.

Captain Nina Nintius and Junior Lieutenant Niko Stratos were led from the tarmac into a waiting transport that took them at high speed to a nearby structure. The ride was smooth and eerily silent, no sound of an internal combustion engine at all. Both officers were relieved of their sidearm and transported unrestrained. Their Raptor was being thoroughly searched by a team of black clad men. The trip was short, and they were soon on their feet again walking down a well-lit corridor. Both were placed in a medium sized room that contained a highly polished black table of unknown composition. They were invited to sit down by the man that had been in charge from the moment they landed.

"Greetings off-worlders, I am General Xalain. You have been escorted to this facility because your starship was trespassing in our territory. Would you identify yourselves please?"

"General, it's obvious that you are a military man, so you will understand that all we are prepared to offer you is our names and rank." Replied Nintius flatly.

"All will be revealed in due time, that I can assure you off-worlder. In the meantime I will accept name and rank." He replied in a voice that sounded like it escaped from a tomb. He stood close to six feet and a half, middle aged and in tremendous shape, Kara observed.

"My name is Nina Nintius, and my rank is Captain. This is Niko Stratos, and his rank is lieutenant."

"Of what military, may I inquire?"

"You may inquire…," said Nintius with a smile. Another black clad man entered the room carrying a closed container. Xalain opened the lid and rifled through the contents. He soon returned his attention to Thrace.

"Captain, could you explain to me what the 'Colonial Military' is?" Damn, thought Nina, he is quick. What does he have in that container?

"What have you got there General, something from my ship?"

"What I have is a flight manual for a _Raptor_ that belongs to the Colonial armed forces according to the cover." Said Xalain holding up the ringed binder.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

Nina realized that eventually more information would be gleaned from them, but she completely forgot about how many items contained Colonial symbols and information aboard her Raptor. This was not exactly the design schematics for a Battlestar in his hands, but she still felt annoyed.

"General, in my…organization, it is custom to provide name, rank and service number to the enemy when detained or captured. Of course I have no reason to suspect you are the enemy, but for the time being that is all I am allowed to provide you."

Xalain smiled and replied. "Your organization is obviously one of a military nature captain. You had been intercepted in our restricted air space, and are being lawfully detained until we ascertain your intentions." How long would she have to wait until a rescue team would arrive? She would not be considered overdue for another six hours.

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me whose restricted airspace we violated?" asked Nina.

"I see no reason why I should not." Replied Xalain. You were trespassing in Cronus air space!"

"Cronus, as in the name of the father of Zeus?"

The General seemed surprised at Nina's familiarity with his people's ancient religious figures. His eyes moved over to the male detainee who had remained quiet throughout the entire conversation. "Do you not have a tongue?"

"I do, but the lady will most likely cut it out if I use it." Replied Niko sarcastically. This elicited a raised eyebrow from the man.

"You seem to lack the military bearing of the captain." Said Xalain. Nina was hoping that Niko would not answer him, there was no sense in letting him know that Niko was a civilian that was conscripted into the military. That would open up too many cans of Tauron worms for her liking at this point.

"Captain, your stay here can be as long or as short as you wish. My people are not belligerent, nor do we seek conflict beyond our system with anyone. By your silence I gather you are attempting to stall for time, perhaps a rescue operation has been mounted on your behalf? I would hate for there to be an unfortunate incident between my people and yours if they should meet face to face."

Nina knew he had a very valid point. These alien starfighters were virtually invisible to Dradis scans and perhaps the targeting computer of a viper as well. An unfortunate incident could prove catastrophic for both sides, and she did not want her people at a tactical disadvantage.

"General I am an officer in the Colonial military, within the next 6 hours there may very well be a search and rescue attempt on our behalf by my people. Your ships jammed my distress call, but I was able to activate an emergency beacon that they will locate! You have been hospitable and respectful, and I would hate to see that be rewarded by a needless conflict between our two militaries."

"What were you doing here in the first place, captain?"

Nina thought carefully before replying.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7.

Peacemaker fidgeted in the well-worn seat of his Mk VII viper. This viper was the very first one assigned to him when he was aboard the _Pegasus_ prior to discovering _Galactica_ and her civilian fleet. He carefully maintained what he could in perfect order, and meticulously supervised the deck crew on maintenance that he was not qualified to do himself. It was one of the best-kept vipers in the air wing, and never failed its master in combat. His wing man was tight on his port wing, and everyone else in the squadron was similarly formed up. Raptor 4 was flying point utilizing a deep dradis scan to try to pick up their missing Raptor.

"Peacemaker – Ares…you deep in thought over there skipper? You've been quiet since we departed the bucket." Said Lt. Tari Adams.

"Deep thought? Nah…just keeping my senses focused on the mission, I'll leave the jawboning to you guys. This should be a routine S & R mission, but let's not get lured into any false sense of security, I have no reason to doubt that the Cylons couldn't track us here." Replied Horlach.

"I wish those fraking toasters would show their sorry tin asses, I've got a viper full of 30 mm rounds to introduce them to!" Said Adams defiantly. "Can I get a fraking 'so say we all,' here guys?"

"So say we all, Ares!" replied Horlach. He was quickly followed by the rest of the squadron; Destiny, Mercury, Wizard, Roadkill, Ace of Spades, Mongoose, Rogue and Odysseus.

"Peacemaker – Raptor 4…we're picking up Poseidon and Hustler at their standby position."

"Message received Raptor 4; we'll split off to increase the range of an effective search now. Rogue, take your team and rendezvous with Poseidon, the rest will cover Raptor 4's search." Ordered Horlach.

The squadron split off and took position around each Raptor as they began their assigned search grid of the planet. Poseidon brought her Raptor down and felt the familiar tug as her ship breached the gravitational field of the planet. The ECO worked his dradis equipment in search of Raptor 1. "Are we still receiving the transponder, Hustler?" asked the pilot.

"Yes sir, I'm getting an exact fix now." He replied. As the search and rescue mission breached the ionosphere the vipers now flying in atmospheric mode spread out further in formation, there was at least twenty meters between wingtips now.

"All vipers – Peacemaker…keep sharp people, we have no idea what happened to our missing raptor, or what to expect from this planet. Keep the chatter down and eyes on the dradis!" Jon had a knot starting to form in the pit of his stomach, he learned to trust his gut feeling so to speak, and this was definitely a situation to mind his internal warning devices.

Lieutenant Adams was the junior pilot in Red Aces squadron; her viper was on the outermost tip of the formation when the blur streaked past the nose of her viper from above. Whatever passed her, did so at supersonic speeds creating wake turbulence or jet wash. Adams knew the feeling immediately as she passed through it from her time in the atmospheric flight simulator from the academy days. On-board computer warnings blared loudly as the viper nosed downward violently into a spin. She had just been looking at her Dradis screen moments before and there had been nothing but their own vipers there.

She fought for control of the craft that was now descending rapidly.

"Ares – Peacemaker…what happened, I can see your descent!" Tari's finger keyed the microphone control on her joystick as she struggled to bring the craft back under her control.

"Something blew right past me skipper, whatever the frak it was it I flew right through the wake turbulence, it damn near tore my nose off and my high engine has stalled." Jon knew that Adams was a decent stick, and the intensity of her voice was evidence that she was in a bad situation and shaken up by it.

"Poseidon – Peacemaker…I'm declaring an emergency for Ares, continue on with the search, I'm breaking formation…Rogue, regroup and take charge." Lt. Mick Rogue quickly responded and maneuvered into Peacemaker's vacant spot in the formation as Jon dropped out of formation in a steep barrel roll. He pushed his Mk. VII viper's three turbo thrust engines to maximum as he followed the vapor trails created by the hot exhaust of Tari's engines as she spiraled to the surface.

"Ares – Peacemaker, I'm on your six…we need to recover, the ground is coming up pretty fraking quick to introduce itself to you."

While Peacemaker tended to his troubled viper, the remaining squadron soon found itself in a situation of its own as other undetectable black aircraft started to buzz their formation.

"Mongoose, Destiny…tally on two bogeys. I'm not picking them up on dradis, but I can spot them visually." Reported Lt. Kara Fan over the comlines.

"Frak, where are they coming from," growled Mongoose as he scanned the skies around him. "Can anyone get a lock on these guys?"

"Negative, my dradis is clear." Responded Lt. Dave "Roadkill" Wright. The sky was becoming thick with these black unknown aircraft buzzing through their formation. Lt. Booster "Wizard" Antilles stayed close to the Raptor to protect it and witnessed two bogeys coming head on. He switched on his targeting computer only to find that he could not lock onto anything. The two black fighters were moving incredibly fast and flew by each side of the raptor and viper creating serious turbulence.

"Rogue – Wizard…these frakers are engaging us, request permission to go weapons free!" Rogue knew this was an unknown situation, and that caution needed to be exercised until they knew what was happening.

"Do not fire unless fired upon, these guys seem interested in busting our balls at this point. Keep your weapons hot but do not fire!" ordered Rogue. He soon called in the remainder of Red Aces squadron to their location and ordered Raptor 4 to jump back to the fleet to advise _Galactica_ of the situation.

Miles away Peacemaker was talking Ares through the recovery of her viper from the spin she was experiencing. She repeatedly attempted to restart her high engine, and after the sixth attempt was successful. Within a minute of the restart, she was able to fully recover her viper, but she was shaken up pretty good over the episode.

"How you doing there Tari," asked Jon over the comline. "Do you need to set down or can you remain aloft?"

"I can remain aloft long enough to kick that fraker's ass that blew by me up there." Replied Ares angrily. Peacemaker could see the swarm of black planes in the distance and hear the commands issued by Rogue to the squadron. Sending off raptor 4 was a smart move for reinforcements, but the vipers would take an hour to get here under full battle thrusters in any case. He had to decide whether to flee or fight.

"You're going to get your chance Tari, kick in the burn and let's get back in there." Ordered peacemaker as he reached for altitude, his viper's three Voram engines on full burn.

**Combat Information Center – _Galactica_**

"_Action stations, action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill." _Came the voice of tactical officer Lt. Felix Gaeta over Galactica's loudspeakers. Viper pilots raced to their assigned vipers and the ship was soon rigged for combat.

"Colonel Tigh, all stations report ready for action!" informed Gaeta. Tigh had walked the short distance to the plotting table beneath the Dradis screen suspended from the ceiling and repeated the message to Admiral Adama who nodded.

"Raptor four's report is unclear if these are Cylon forces, but what is known is that Red Aces squadron is heavily outnumbered, and the attacking craft cannot be detected by our dradis or establish a weapons lock on them." Said Tigh.

Bill had stared at the star chart on the plotting table before him, they had evaded the Cylons for some time now and there was nowhere for them to jump into this small system undetected. He made his decision. "XO, prepare the ship to jump into immediate orbit of the planet. The _Astral Queen_, _Celestra, Striker_ and two Raptors will remain with fleet at our present coordinates with their FTL's spooled up and ready to jump if this is a trick to get us to leave the fleet." The three civilian ships had been retrofitted with point defense turrets and extremely limited heavy artillery. Not enough to take on a Basestar by any means, but enough to buy themselves some time against raiders until all ships could jump away.

Back high above the planet the vipers were being buzzed by all directions, yet neither side had fired a shot in anger, yet. Peacemaker was amazed at the speed and agility of these fighters before him. Each one of his pilots was being harassed, and each one had at one point or another requested permission to go weapons-free and to splash one.

"Peacemaker – Ares…this is fraking ridiculous, these guys are all over us, sooner or later one of us are going to be clipped, let's make an example out of one of these planes and get em to back off."

They could not keep up this game of chicken, and Tari was right, eventually one of his people was going to get hurt. It was not until Destiny had called out that her computer was warning her of a weapons lock on her viper by one of the black fighters. "Peacemaker to all vipers…weapons free, if you can obtain a good visual lock try and cripple one without destroying it. See if we can get them to back off." He was too heavily outnumbered to put up a fight unnecessarily, but this was getting too dangerous, and annoying now.

Wizard was elated, "About fraking time mate, enough dancing about with these bastards." He had two fighters on his six, and one dead ahead. He depressed his thruster pedal for more speed and squeezed the trigger. The rounds missed by four meters, but he adjusted his tail rudder, and walked the rounds right across the port wing, shearing it off completely. The black fighter spun about uncontrollably and lost altitude. Wizard followed the plane down and was surprised to see the canopy slide back and a human life form eject from the disabled fighter. Twin parachutes popped open and the pilot glided safely to the ground.

Road kill had teamed up with his wing-man and congratulated him on the first kill. "It looks like we just kicked the hornets nest over, Wizard. They're not going to take kindly to that."

"Frak them, it just goes to show that even without the aid of a targeting computer we'll still kick their ass!" replied Wizard.

The black fighters disengaged and soon regrouped into a very angry looking battle formation. Peacemaker did not like the odds and was soon hearing Poseidon in his earpiece. "Peacemaker – Poseidon, I have a lock on Raptor one's position and you are not going to believe what I found."

"I'm fairly busy up here Elyssa, spit it out!" replied Horlach.

"There is a massive city along the coastline, with an equally large airstrip housing the raptor. They've got it pretty secure I doubt we'll get near it without a fight."

"Get some digitals of it and jump out of there before you're engaged."

"Peacemaker – Odysseus…getting a new set of contacts from above. Colonial IFF's…the Calvary has arrived."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

In the control station at the main military headquarters planet-side, the room was buzzing with activity at the arrival of an unexpected guest high in their planet's orbit.

"General Xalain, the size of the contact is incredible, nearly 1500 meters in length; smaller craft similar to the ones we are currently engaging in the atmosphere have exited the bigger ship immediately upon arrival." Reported the subordinate from his console.

"Exactly as the off-worlder said it would happen, at least we now know she was not lying." Said a man standing quietly in the doorway, he stood nearly six feet, and his long black hair tied neatly with a black silk ribbon. He wore robes that projected monarchy, yet this man was fully a warrior and not one taken lightly. The room became aware of their leader's presence.

General Xalain walked over to his monarch and oldest friend; bowing his head in respect and acknowledgment. "Excellency, their warship is bigger than anything I have ever seen, and their fighter craft have proven worthy of respect on the field of battle. One of them managed to down one of our 'wraiths' yet did not seek its destruction, only to disable it."

"I thought they could not detect or place a weapons lock on our fighters?" Xalain merely smiled and replied that they apparently could, even without the aid of targeting computers to guide them. "I see," the monarch replied as he walked over to a large chair in the center of the room. "Communications officer, open the channel so I can address the trespassers directly!"

The man pulled back the large flowing black robes and sat down on what could have been considered a throne. The communications officer turned and nodded as the communications link was established.

High in the atmosphere three squadrons of colonial vipers descended through the clouds like a swarm of angry bees led by Apollo.

"All wings – Apollo, you are weapons free, Raptor 4 reports that the Red Aces squadron is heavily outnumbered so let's hope there are a few left to defend."

"Apollo – Raptor 4…I'm picking up all ten transponders from Red Aces squadron." Lee Adama was truly amazed that one squadron was still intact against such heavy odds.

"Peacemaker – Apollo…you magnificent sonofabitch, you're still alive in that fraking swarm!" yelled Adama over the comline.

"Apollo – Peacemaker…that's an affirmative. These guys just seem content to bust our balls at the moment, but Wizard just splashed one of theirs and they're not taking it kindly."

"Alright Peace you've held your ground, those of you with enough fuel regroup with us and those of you who are running too low return to the 'Bucket' for refueling, she jumped into planetary orbit." Peacemaker figured that is how the vipers got here so quickly, _Galactica_ jumping straight into planetary orbit saved precious time and fuel for the vipers. He was running low on fuel due to chasing down Ares on full thrusters as her viper spun out of control to the surface, but he would be damned if he was going to leave his squadron now.

**Combat Information Center (CIC) – Battlestar _Galactica_**

Admiral Adama stared at his executive officer standing on the opposite side of the plotting table. He always relied on Tigh's sound advice and reassuring presence, this time was no different.

"What are the chances that these are a new class of Cylon attack craft?" asked Bill as he took a sip of coffee from his tall covered coffee mug bearing the word 'ACTUAL' in gold leaf lettering.

"Not enough information to draw a definite conclusion, sir. I'm leaning _against_ Cylon due to the fact that if this was an outpost or supply station they would have already called in Basestar support at the first sign of Colonial transponders." Replied Tigh.

"I have to concur, Nina has been planet-side long enough for a Basestar to have been called in if there was a Cylon presence, and she had been identified or captured." Said Bill. The discussion was interrupted by a loud piercing audio distortion coming over the communications officer's headset, resulting in Dualla throwing off her headphones and grabbing her ears in discomfort.

"Problems over there Lieutenant?" asked Adama hearing the officer yell out in pain.

"Admiral I'm receiving a transmission from the planet, the strength of the signal is incredible, it's being broadcast on every channel."

"Put it on the speaker Lieutenant!" ordered Adama.

A loud, booming voice filled the room, and a very slight distortion could be detected as the message began. _"Attention alien space craft…you are trespassing in Cronus air space and are ordered to depart immediately or you will be destroyed."_

"Cronus? As in the father of Zeus?" asked Adama looking directly at Tigh who merely raised one eyebrow. "Lt. open up a channel and pipe it to my handset." Said Adama as he retrieved the corded handset from the console of the plotting table.

"You're all set to transmit Admiral!"

"This is the Battlestar _Galactica_; we have no hostile intentions and are here on a search and rescue mission of one of our missing spacecraft, please respond."

"_Attention commander of the Battlestar Galactica, your have violated Cronus air space and are directed to depart immediately, failure to comply will result in the termination of your two pilots we have in our custody and the obliteration of your fighters currently on an intercept course with our defenders."_

"With whom am I talking to?" replied Adama.

"Admiral, they're launching additional fighters, our own forces will be utterly overwhelmed." Reported Gaeta from his tactical station.

"_This is Overlord Mazzax…my word is absolute law here on Cronus, and who might I be addressing?"_

"This is Admiral William Adama, commander of the _Galactica_. I see no need to escalate this situation into an all-out conflagration. We are here to recover our missing pilots who were merely conducting a search for water and plant life."

"_Admiral, I will order my 'wraiths" to stand down if you order your forces to withdraw back to your ship. We can then discuss the situation regarding Captain Nintius and Lieutenant Stratos."_

Adama did not like having military decisions dictated to him, but they were in violation of what appeared to be a sovereign airspace and unless he was willing to get into direct conflict with an unknown force of superior numbers than he would have to comply. "Recall the vipers." He snapped, obviously annoyed at being backed into a corner.

The communications officer complied and ordered all squadrons to return to _Galactica_ immediately. True to his word, Overlord Mazzax ordered the recall of his 'wraiths.'

"_Admiral Adama, I would like to propose a temporary cessation of hostilities and meet with you or your representative here on Cronus so we may discuss this situation."_

"Agreed, Overlord. One of our transport craft will arrive at whatever location you provide, escorted by two of our fighters." Replied Adama.

"_Your delegation will be escorted to our location once you've reached the lower atmosphere Admiral. Your three aircraft will be all that is allowed to enter our airspace, and its inhabitants extended safe passage. Any violation of this agreement nullifies safe passage, and risks the lives of your two pilots in our custody. This transmission ends…now!"_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9.

With all squadrons back on board _Galactica _the ship remain at alert condition two; meaning that there is a threat probable, but not present. Crew readiness is somewhat more relaxed than full readiness. This is usually ordered directly after the end of a Condition 1 alert. Pilots remain ready to man their fighters at all times and the hanger crews are busy rearming and refueling the vipers that defend the Battlestar.

Captain Matthew Lensherr takes the opportunity to visit D'Anna in the brig, at first sight of her, his heartbeat quickens, and a smile forms at his lips. Picking up the receiver on his side of the six-inch thick bulletproof glass, he waits for her to do the same. Leaping off the cot she picks up the receiver and places her palm against the glass, Matt mirrors the gesture with his own palm.

D'Anna is the first to speak, "Matthew what the hell is happening out there? I hear the speakers broadcasting condition one throughout the ship, then the unmistakable sensation of a faster-than-light jump. Where are we?"

"The system we entered days ago contained two planets that might contain resources the fleet desperately needs, we dispatched recon patrols to both. One of the patrols ran into trouble and the pilot and her ECO went missing." Lensherr took a deep breath and continued. "After picking up an emergency distress beacon we sent a recon squadron to search for them them and were ambushed by an unknown force."

"Cylons?"

"No, the larger of the two planets seems to be inhabited, and they either intercepted or shot down the Raptor. A force of superior numbers ambushed our search and rescue patrol, thankfully nobody was lost and contact was made between the inhabitants of the planet and _Galactica_."

"Are they human?"

"Apparently so, how anyone is this far out without any record with the colonies is beyond me. The planet is named Cronus."

D'Anna's face stiffened. "As in the father of Zeus?"

"I don't know of any other." Replied Lensherr. "D'Anna, so much is happening here, but please don't think I've given up on getting you out of here."

"Matthew…right now this is the safest place for me, and you. The 'Thunderbolts of Zeus" already made an attempt on your life, why tempt fate?" Lensherr did not answer, he had no answer because deep down he knew that she was right. His attackers could not reach her here, she was under 24-hour guard and security in _Galactica's_ brig was airtight.

"You know we had an idea who…or what comprised the Thunderbolts of Zeus while on New Caprica." Lensherr snapped to attention. "Many of the humans in our detention pens were thoroughly interrogated by Cavil and Simon." D'Anna averted her eyes from Matt's, by interrogation, she meant torture. Cavil was sadistic; he hated humans and made every attempt to sway the majority of humanoid Cylons to eliminate those left behind on New Caprica. He delighted in the methods employed against those prisoners suspected of being in the resistance, yet was confounded by the human on human violence perpetrated against those that cooperated with the Cylon occupation forces.

"What did you discover?" inquired Matt, the pain of the beating he took still fresh in his mind.

"Whoever was executing "human collaborators" did so in a very professional manner, covering their tracks flawlessly. Simon speculated that the executioners had military training, they were extremely efficient."

"There are not many civilians aboard _Galactica_, and those aboard are restricted from sensitive areas of the ship. My attack took place in 'pilot's country,' not an area that civilians could easily gain access to."

"So you accept that your own people, the men and woman aboard this Battlestar could be responsible for the attempt on your life?"

"I accept the fact that a majority of people in the fleet desire the death of each and every Cylon they can get their hands on. Your detention is common knowledge aboard _Galactica_, but not throughout the fleet. If so, I am sure the council would petition the old man for a public execution. The fact that I as an officer in the Colonial military would fall in love with a representative of the instrument of humanity's destruction probably does not go over well with some."

"You should be very careful, Matthew. If it wasn't for Jon's timely arrival you would have gone to meet one of your gods with a thunderbolt carved into that thick skull of yours." Said D'Anna smiling.

"I'm aware of my surroundings, don't worry. They won't catch me flat-footed again." Two quick raps on the glass partition separating Lensherr from the Marine guard signaled that his time was up.

"I have to go now D'Anna, I love you."

Admiral Adama stood surrounded by a dozen heavily armed Colonial Marines on the hanger deck of the port flight pod. Colonel Tigh stood close by with a look of concern on his face. Tigh did not feel comfortable with Bill going down to meet with Mazzax and volunteered to do so himself.

"Look Saul, if this turns into a cluster-frak I'll need you up here to mobilize the defenses, no offense to your capabilities, but their head honcho wants to talk to our head honcho, and last I checked that was me old friend."

"I think President Roslin might have a different opinion." Replied Tigh. The two chuckled, and Tigh took a step back and saluted.

"Admiral departing!" he said at the top of his lungs. All hands immediately came to attention and rendered a salute. Adama returned the salute and stepped into the raptor piloted by Captain Elyssa "Poseidon" DeAlma. Bill poked his head into the cockpit and gave a word of encouragement to his pilot.

"Raptor 2477 – _Galactica_ you are cleared for departure." DeAlma gently lifted the 50-ton craft off _Galactica's_ flight deck and proceeded down one quarter of the length of the open flight pod until she was clear of _Galactica_. Vipers flown by Starbuck, Vixon and Falcon.

The trip to the planet's upper atmosphere was relatively short and all four craft soon broke orbit and flying under atmospheric mode. There was not much cloud cover, and the atmospheric readings for this planet revealed the air much thinner than what the Colonials were used to. Life could be sustained on this planet, but it would not be comfortable.

"Dradis?" shouted DeAlma back to her Electronics Counter Measures officer, known simply as the ECO.

"Nothing on the screen Captain, skies ahead of us are clear." He reported.

Five minutes into their descent, they noticed close to two dozen black aircraft hovering before them that still had not appeared on their dradis. Their escort to the planet's surface was before them. The strange black craft soon sprung to life and broke formation. With blinding speed, they reformed around the incoming Colonial craft and one wraith took the lead, guiding their guests to the planet's surface.

_Within twenty minutes, they were on final approach to a large city that sat on the coastline. Adama looked out the windscreen to take in the view of the city, and could not help but notice row after row of those black fighters parked along the tarmac. Massive cannons were strategically positioned along both sides of the runway, and around the city walls. This place was a fortress thought Adama. Gods help us if we have to fight our way in or out of the damned place._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

In a small chamber 9.78 light years, or three parsecs from _Galactica's_ present location, the humanoid Cylon model known as Cavil sat in a chair behind an immaculately-kept desk, his legs crossed and resting on the top of it. He had a smile on his face and his fingers were interlaced, two centurions stood behind him as the rightful owner of the desk stood on the other side of it.

"So I can conclude that the terms offered to you are acceptable?" The room was deathly quiet, only the humming of the two robotic Cylons could be heard. The centurions stood over six and a half feet tall, and were extremely intimidating to those who encountered them; the man standing opposite Cavil was not one of them, and did not intimidate easily, if at all.

"From the moment you and your Basestars entered our quadrant I realized that many things would be forever changed for our empire. Our brief encounter with your renegade Battlestar left us, shall we say…unfulfilled." The man's military bearing was like a razor. Cavil normally despised humans, but he was surprised to find himself liking this particular human very much.

"Well then, why don't we see what we can do about improving your level of…fulfillment?" The smile that crept across Cavil's face instilled a feeling in the man across the desk that he had not felt since he was a small boy. This feeling was a cross between unease and fear. He quickly concluded that this strange man was a force to be reckoned with even without the metal monstrosities hovering above him. The older man stood and extended his hand. Grasping the non-human hand the alliance had commenced.

Captain Elyssa DeAlma brought the Raptor down for a flawless landing on the alien tarmac. Once the hatch opened, Colonial Marines exited and took up a defensive position around the entrance to the craft, their machine guns at chest level and at the ready. Admiral Adama stepped out onto the wing and immediately was struck at how thin the air was. He stood erect and looked about; two columns of black clad soldiers advanced and peeled off to the left and right with precision as they got within ten feet of the Raptor. A lone figure emerged from the rear of the column and stopped a few short feet from the nearest Marine that stood near equal in height. The Marine took two steps to the left and turned his head towards Adama who stepped off the wing onto the tarmac.

"Admiral Adama, I am General Xalain of the Cronus Imperial Guard, welcome to Cronus."

Adama reviewed the man before him who stood at least four inches taller than he did. The black uniform appeared to be some sort of body armor, and there was no doubt that the man who wore it was in incredible physical condition. Pale skin and ice blue eyes displayed no emotion as the two military leaders sized each other up.

"General Xalain, thank you for personally receiving us." Replied Adama curtly. The two men stared at each other for almost a minute without blinking. Xalain smiled and broke the icy silence.

"You may instruct your troops to stand at ease, Admiral. You are here under the protection of Overlord Mazzax, the obvious talent of these fine specimen of warriors will not be needed." Assured Xalain, who clearly was impressed with the stature of the dozen Marines before him. Adama had shrewdly chosen twelve of the largest Colonial Marines assigned to _Galactica_ in order to make a strong first impression.

"Your pilot may depart the craft as well, Admiral. As you may have noticed by now, our atmosphere is quite thin, and while we are quite comfortable here, your people will not acclimate easily to it, especially if confined to such a small craft."

Bill turned back towards the hatch and nodded to Elyssa and her ECO Lieutenant Ian "Hustler" Lichtenhan. The two stepped out and Elyssa started to secure the hatch with a keypad that was beneath a panel when Xalain spoke.

"No need for that young lady, anything we needed to learn about this particular craft was learned from Captain Nintius' Raptor." Adama merely frowned and gestured for Elyssa to come on down. She hopped down from the wing and stood before the General who stood more than a foot higher than her. With hands clasped behind the small of his back, he merely nodded his head to her. The Colonials and their escorts walked to a large transport on the side of the runway, two armed Marines remained guarding the Raptor, and six Imperial guards guarded the two Marines.

Soon the transport had arrived at a large set of gates that was heavily guarded, and fortified. The transport slowly advanced through the opened gates and onto a beautiful courtyard that contained a large structure made of fine-grained gray limestone with fifteen magnificent columns in all. Smooth opaque stones existed where one might find manicured lawn on such a palatial estate. DeAlma moved closer to Adama and whispered in his ear. "I'd bet my Raptor wings that we're looking at an exact replica of the temple of Apollo." Elyssa DeAlma was an expert in Colonial history and well versed in the religions practiced amongst the twelve colonies of Kobol.

"This whole thing gets weirder by the minute," grumbled the Admiral quietly. She was right though, Adama had seen enough representations of the architecture of the gods in museums and the sacred scrolls through his lifetime, and this looked chillingly familiar.

The transport stopped and the occupants all stepped out onto the courtyard. Up close, the temple was huge, DeAlma was in her glory; she had studied the Gods throughout her life and was considered an expert. She had seen depictions of the temple of Apollo a thousand times, but to actually see a replica of the actual temple in person was breath taking. Xalain walked towards the temple and slowly mounted the four steps onto the landing and waited. Fifty yards ahead of them was another finely polished step leading up to the statue of Apollo, which was placed in an adyton, or inner sanctuary. Xalain stood quietly.

"What are we waiting for, General?" asked Adama. Xalain said nothing; his eyes were closed as if in prayer. Adama crossed his arms at his chest, and was starting to become annoyed at being ignored. Elyssa recognized the signs and quietly stood next to him.

"Sir, I would think it ill-advised to 'crack his thick skull,' if that is what is currently going through your mind at the moment. We're fairly outgunned and outnumbered down here." Adama cocked his head and let slip a slight smile.

"Okay, but if he starts chanting I'm going to crack his skull." Quipped the Admiral as he forced himself to relax. Footsteps could be heard approaching from behind the great statue, the sound grew louder by the moment. Xalain dropped to one knee and looked to the floor. Stepping out from the shadows came the Overlord of Cronus; resplendent in crimson robes. The sleeves just below the elbow were tied by gold braid, and a large broad sword hung from a golden belt. His hair was jet black and tied in a ponytail that rested between his broad shoulder blades. He was not as tall as Xalain, but Adama instinctively knew that the man was just as deadly. He walked like a monarch, and stopped before his general who remained at bent knee.

"Please rise my friend, your respect for your overlord goes unquestioned." Said Mazzax as he rested his palm on Xalain's shoulder who immediately stood up and moved to the side. Mazzax's face looked as if the gods he worshiped could have sculpted it; handsome, with piercing green eyes. "You must be Admiral Adama of the _Galactica_, welcome to Cronus." His voice, deep with bass, boomed across the temple.

Adama stepped forward and slowly nodded his head. He was unsure how he should greet this planet's ruler, but one thing he was sure of…he sure as hell was not going to bend knee.

"Thank you, Overlord. Your presence this far out in space, away from all the known colonies comes as a great surprise. We did not expect to find humans this far out in uncharted space."

"What colonies would that be, Admiral?" replied Mazzax, his eyes narrowing.

"The colonies of Kobol; birthplace of humanity." Replied Adama. The look of recognition on Xalain's face at the mention of Kobol did not go unnoticed by Elyssa. "Overlord, I do not wish to be rude, but I would like to know where two of my officers are, and what their condition is." Said Adama pointedly.

"Take care of your tone Admiral, on Cronus there is only one man who demands answers and that is I." said Mazzax without trace of emotion. "You stand on the holiest ground throughout this planet, I would ask that you show some respect."

"I am well acquainted with Apollo, Overlord. However I journeyed here to discuss my missing pilots, not to be given a theology lesson." Countered Adama. The two leaders stared silently at each other for a brief moment, and then Mazzax finally spoke.

"_Does the hawk answer to the sparrow…does the mighty oak tremble when straw is thrown at it?_ Guard your tone Admiral; this is your final warning. I hold the lives of your two officers in my hand. They trespassed in our airspace, yet I have treated them as guests. I am a generous host, but the bane of those who do not respect the rule of comity."

Elyssa cleared her throat loud enough for Bill to have heard her. She had always held a special place in Bill's heart. She was like a daughter to him, and he often relied on her opinions. Taking a deep breath, Adama spoke again, this time with less of an edge.

"Overlord, you are indeed correct. I stand as a guest in your home, and I apologize if my concern for the well-being of my officers may have come across as a sign of disrespect."

_Mazzax realized that the female in the group was a moderating influence for the Admiral and decided to keep a closer eye upon her in the future. He stepped down to the landing and came within inches from Adama. He spoke. "Apology accepted, Admiral. We both have many questions, and they can be addressed after we have dined." He turned towards Xalain and spoke. "Please escort the Admiral's party to the imperial hall, see to it that the admiral's missing pilots joins them immediately." Mazzax nodded to Adama and turned, walking back the way he entered the great temple._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11.

The short, stocky crew member had just finished his shift in the mess hall and was looking forward to winding down in his bunk for peace and quiet. He shared a compartment with nine other enlisted men, and privacy was at a premium. Walking down the corridor towards his quarters, he passed one of the viper pilots, which he found odd. What was one of the gods-chosen ones doing up here in the enlisted quarters he thought to himself. The pilot seemed preoccupied with a clipboard, and ignored the crew member when he stopped before him.

"Something I can do for you Lieutenant?" he asked respectively.

"No specialist, thank you. I was searching for someone but I just realized he isn't even on this deck…carry on." The specialist saluted and continued the final dozen feet to his quarters. Taking a deep breath, he opened the hatch and stepped in. The lights were dimmed, and five of the nine bunks had their privacy curtains pulled shut. The remaining bunks were empty. What a stroke of luck, the light sounds of snoring indicated that he might just get the peace and quiet he sought. Stripping out of his utilities he slid under the covers of his bunk and pulled shut the heavy blackout curtain. He turned on the red reading light and opened to the last page he left off on in the novel "Worker's Paradise…Life on Aerilon." The book had been a joke, given to him by a family member prior to the holocaust when he was home on shore leave. He spent his entire life on Aerilon and hated the life of a farmer, there was nothing even vaguely resembling paradise in his opinion about his home world.

He heard the sheets rustle in the bunk above him and then the blackout curtain slide open quietly. He restarted the paragraph that he interrupted and was surprised when a hand reached in, covering his mouth like a vice grip and then the curtain being thrown open. A flashlight was shone in his eyes and he soon felt his legs being pinned down.

"Don't fraking move!" whispered a man that was the owner of the hand clamped over his mouth. The lights to the room came to life and before him stood five hooded men; three of them wearing pilot's leathers. He recognized the squadron insignia from Blue squadron.

"Specialist Thomas Caline…you have been found guilty of collaboration with the Cylon occupation force on New Caprica! You served as a member of the New Caprica Police, and actively hunted down and arrested members of the resistance that would later be found executed. It is the judgment of the Thunderbolts of Zeus that your sentence be death, and carried out immediately." The petrified specialist shook his head no, as if to say they had the wrong person.

"Do you deny being a member of the NCP?" asked the man from Blue squadron. Caline shook his head in the affirmative. The viper pilot pulled off his mask to the horror of the condemned man. "My presence here would contradict your denial of being an NCP scumbag Thomas, you see I was specifically chosen by resistance command to infiltrate the NCP and report back who was involved. Many good people died because weak people like you sold your souls and your loyalty to the skin jobs and toasters by doing their bidding. You lived like a coward, you just lied like a coward, and now you will die as a coward!" The man was dragged off the bunk onto the floor so there would be no confined space to contend with when another man plunged a long silver dagger deep into Caline's chest. His eyes bulged and body convulsed as the knife man twisted the blade hard to the left. With his dying breath, the last thing specialist Thomas Caline of Aerilon could see was the lightning bolt shaped hilt of the dagger sticking out of his chest.

"Well gentlemen, we're down to less than six now. Good work, let's finish up here shall we?" said the viper pilot releasing his grip from the now-dead specialist's mouth.

**Cronus Imperial Hall**

The table was made of sturdy wood, at least ten meters in length and four meters wide. The tablecloth was made of the pelts of several of the planet's large predators that had long since joined the non-living. Three exquisitely sculpted silver braziers were spaced out along the length of the table. Their cast oval bodies supported on four clawed feet, which are in turn mounted onto four small ruts affixed to the brazier tray. The flames that rose from them illuminated the table brilliantly.

Adama was impressed with the mixture of primitive and advanced decor of the Imperial Hall. These people were obviously technologically advanced, not as advanced as Colonial technology, but not far off either. Yet the ruler of this planet wore kingly raiment and carried a long broadsword that he had only seen in museums of his home world. They worshiped at least some of the same gods that they had, which was extremely odd and only left him with more questions to ask.

Each member of his party had been given a seat at the great table, and ornate chalices placed before each of them. At the far end of the room, two huge doors slowly slid open, and in walked his missing pilots escorted by General Xalain and two armed guards. They were brought to the head of the table where Mazzax sat upon a large hand carved wooden throne. He stood up with gauntleted hands clasped behind his back.

"You came as uninvited guests to my world, and now I release you to your own leader. Your short stay with us has been…interesting to say the least." He gestured to two empty seats to the right of Admiral Adama who sat at Mazzax's right hand. While the overlord removed his gauntlets and handed them to a waiting servant, Adama stood to greet his missing pilots.

"I'm glad to see you two have been treated well, I would hate to think where we'd be if it had been otherwise." Said Adama. Mazzax simply cocked an eyebrow and was amused.

"Glad to see you guys came to get us, Admiral. Sitting on our asses in this palace was starting to get a little boring. They had a lot of questions, and I figured it best that you were the man to answer them." Replied Nina firing off a smart salute.

"I see you kept your nugget out of trouble, captain." Said Adama looking at Junior Lieutenant Stratos.

"I commend your officers on their discipline, Admiral. Captain Nintius revealed the barest of information, name, rank and service number if I'm not mistaken." Said Mazzax turning towards Xalain.

"My officers are very well trained, Overlord Mazzax." Said Adama. "We are trained to divulge as little as possible when captured on the field of battle. You have my deepest appreciation for the treatment of my officers while in your custody."

"We're not barbarians Admiral." said Mazzax distastefully. "My people desire to live in peace, but be assured they are more than capable of waging war upon aggressors."

"We're not aggressors, Overlord. We're refugees fleeing a tyranny you couldn't possibly fathom." Replied Adama.

"Fleeing? Your spaceship and fighters are quite impressive; this force you are fleeing must be quite powerful."

"Overlord, my ship is the only surviving warship protecting a civilian convoy of seventy ships containing the remnants of humanity." Said Adama sitting back down as his chalice was filled with a purplish liquid by a servant. He said thank you and looked toward the head of the great table.

"What happened to your people Admiral?" inquired Mazzax.

"We are the survivors of the twelve colonies of Kobol. Without getting too in depth, I will tell you that a force known as the Cylons attacked our colonies; technological creations created by humanity that eventually turned on us. In a surprise attack, they were able to wipe out our military defenses and subject our home worlds to nuclear devastation.

"Ah…the power of the atom, my people discovered that technology ages ago, a wondrous source of energy if properly harnessed." Several servants soon wheeled in silver platters filled with meats of every kind on the planet. The aromatic smell was overpowering for the Colonials who had tasted meats only rarely and had been sustained on processed algae for the majority of their exodus. "Enough talk my guests, it is time to dine heartily." Announced Mazzax.

Back aboard _Galactica_, Colonel Tigh had spent the last few minutes catching an earful from the President over a secured frequency. His demeanor changing not a fraction as the volume of Laura Roslin's voice increased.

"Colonel Tigh, are you seriously telling me that the Admiral Adama is currently on the surface of a planet containing intelligent life attempting to win the release of a raptor team in custody and this is the first I'm hearing of it?" shouted Roslin.

"Madam President, as you are well aware, missing raptor pilots fall under military control, and not the civilian executive branch." Said Tigh calmly.

Laura Roslin knew full well where the military and civilian leadership lay in the grand scheme of things in their current predicament, but she knew that the executive officer knew quite clearly what she was driving at. "Colonel, let's circumnavigate around the felgercarb for a moment," began Roslin. "You and I both know the significance of encountering intelligent, human life this far out from the colonies. You and I both know that not only should I have been consulted, but I should _be there_ with him!"

"Madam President, I am quite sure the Admiral did not want to bother you until he had all available information on hand in order for you to digest." Said Tigh diplomatically.

"Colonel, your attempt at diplomacy is appreciated, but let's cut through the bull felgercarb, shall we?" Laura Roslin respected Galactica's executive officer immensely, but she was not going to sit there on _Colonial One_ and be treated like she was nothing. "Colonel, I am the _President_ of the twelve colonies and will be given the courtesy and respect that this office deserves. Please inform the Admiral that I _will_ be arriving on _Galactica_ within two hours, and that I intend to either be briefed on the status of inhabitants of this planet, or be received by them. Roslin out!" Thus, the transmission was cut, and with a cocked eyebrow, Tigh replaced the phone into the receiver of the plotting table and exhaled.

"_Dee, please prepare the flight deck to receive the Raptor assigned to __Colonial One__. The President shall be aboard within two hours." Informed Tigh._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12.

Two Basestars emerged from the small planet, heading out to space with two dozen vastly smaller warships flanking them. Within the lead Basestar, Cavil was holding court with Leobin and two Doral models.

"Are you certain you can trust them?" asked Doral, who once posed as Galactica's public relations person just prior to the attacks on the colonies.

"Of course not, they're human. Do I look like I'm defective or something?" replied Cavil from the other side of the data stream. "Though I must admit I like the man, he'd make the perfect Cylon…cold, ruthless and methodical." Said Cavil smiling.

"Their encounter with the escaped humans left him with strong feelings of retribution, if properly harnessed that emotion can be powerful." Interjected Leobin.

"Commandant Leiter and his people make an interesting ally, he believes himself to be part of the ultimate force in the universe, his pomposity I find…refreshing for some strange reason."

"Human arrogance is the reason why we have removed them from the cosmos; they do not fit in with God's divine will." Said Leobin, the one humanoid Cylon that fancies himself to be a prophet, his way is to sow doubt and misinformation, interlacing deceit in the substance of truth and monotheistic faith. "Once we've located Galactica and the fleet we can return them to ash and dust floating upon the solar winds, our 'allies' can then be dealt with."

"Leobin, that almost sounds like the human trait of treachery." Laughed Cavil, who knew that in the end, the number two model Cylon was correct; Humanity was a pestilence that needed purging in order for the new generation of Cylon to be born.

**Cronus Imperial Hall**

The first of what would be several courses of meals had already been served, and many of the Colonials took every moment to enjoy the delicacies before them. Such quality of food had not been seen since before the attack on the colonies, and many savored the experience.

Admiral Adama exhibited more restraint in his enthusiasm for the banquet, there were close to 45,000 people back in the fleet that would gladly kill to be in the chairs they now sat at. Mazzax noticed the admiral's restraint.

"Does the food not meet your approval, Admiral?" asked the overlord.

"No sir, the meal is excellent, and I fully appreciate the hospitality. The thoughts of the people under my protection are close to mind; you see they have been sustained on recycled water and processed algae products for the entire time that we have been on the run. Every once in a great while we come across a planet that offers some sort of alternative vegetation or if the gods are truly kind, some sort of animal flesh. Nothing of this kind before us let me assure you."

"Then allow my people to lighten your load, Admiral. We can supply you with as much fresh fruits, vegetables and meats as we can part with, and you can carry." Announced Mazzax magnanimously. "General Xalain can meet with one of your representatives to work through the specifics."

"Overlord I do not know what to say, your generosity will lift the spirits and hopes of many desperate people who are deficient in both." Replied Adama.

"Tell me Admiral, your exodus from the Cylon annihilation has brought you far from the Cyrannus star system, do you mean to tell me that you have not encountered any planet capable of sustaining life for your people to make their home?" The question boomed across the great hall, and met with stunned silence by all.

"How did you know we come from the Cyrannus star system?" asked Adama. General Xalain was surprised as well, that Mazzax had chosen to say anything. There was much that had been left unsaid, and knowledge of the Colonies was one of them.

At that moment, one of the Colonial Marines guarding the Raptor signaled the senior Marine escorting the Admiral over the wireless. Listening to the message over his earpiece, he walked over to the Admiral. "Sir, we received a message from the XO. It would seem that President Roslin is currently aboard ship and would like to talk with you ASAP." _Great!_ Thought Bill to himself.

"Overlord Mazzax, I would like to continue this conversation momentarily. I have just been informed that the President of our colonies requests my attention for a moment."

"Then by all means have your president escorted here immediately to partake in our victuals, I believe she will have great interest in what we're about to discuss!"

**Combat Information Center - Galactica **

President Laura Roslin was handed the receiver from Tigh as the two stood at the plotting table. "The Admiral is on the line, madam president." Putting the antiquated phone to her ear, she spoke.

"Admiral Adama, thank you for getting back to me so quickly. What is the situation down there on the surface?" After a five minute sit-rep, Roslin announced she would be there directly, and soon replaced the phone in its cradle.

The two deck hands were finishing up their own shift and upon entering their quarters stopped short to see that one of their bunks was occupied. Since the loss of the Battlestar _Pegasus_, which sacrificed itself to save the fleet during the escape from New Caprica, the living space aboard _Galactica_ became even more cramped. A new directive called Hot Racking was instituted. This was the sanctioned practice within the Colonial Military of assigning more than one crew member to a bed or "rack" to reduce sleeping space. Depending upon the shift, two or even three people may end up sharing the same rack, or bunk.

With more than one crew member assigned to a rack, it is possible that a crew member returning from a duty shift will lie down on a rack immediately after it is vacated by another crew member about to start a shift. The rack is therefore said to be "hot".

"Come on Caline; get your fat ass out of the rack. You're late for your shift, you should be gone by now! Complained the crew member clearly not happy about having his long anticipated sleep delayed. With no noise coming from the rack, he angrily pulled back the blackout curtain. "Come on already, you…." Both men were stunned speechless by the sight before them. Specialist Thomas Caline lay flat on his back dead. His mouth was a bloody mess and in his hand sat his cut out tongue. A thunderbolt carved into his forehead was overshadowed by the legend written on the wall in blood… "Justice is served!"

"Frak, call security quick, and don't touch a thing!" Warned one of the deck hands, the long anticipated sleep would be delayed awhile longer.

Matt had spent almost the full hour allowed him to visit with D'Anna. The two had talked quietly over the phone lines on each side of the thick reinforced glass the separated them. They talked endlessly on these visits, usually Matt telling stories from his life before entering the service. D'Anna found them bittersweet, she loved to hear of his life on Aerilon, and at the same time felt sad for her part in his planet's demise, as well as the other eleven colonies that fell to Cylon treachery.

Matthew Lensherr had grown up on the farming colony of Aerilon, his family owned four hectares of land, which they raised cattle. At the age of twenty, he left the farm to become a member of his city's fire brigade. The population had grown large, and new arrivals from other colonies found work on the many farms throughout the area. Matt had never liked farming, but he did his part to make his family's farm successful.

His father long ago realized that his son chafed at the life of raising cattle and knew he was meant for other things. He could relate, for he too chafed under his own father's demand that he follow in the family trade. He promised he would never do that to his own children, and when Matt cautiously expressed an interest in becoming a firefighter he simply told him, that if he felt the need to expand his professional horizons than he should or he would regret it throughout his life. Matt was stunned, it was as if his father had long ago anticipated his request. The farm was doing very well, and the elder Lensherr hired two recently arrived Taurons in search of honest work to replace his son who left the next week to start firefighter school.

Two quick knocks on the glass separating the visiting area from the guard's station alerted Lensherr that he had five minutes left to his visit. He had told D'Anna about the planet they discovered, something that Adama probably wouldn't had condoned, but the way Matt looked at it, what could one woman do confined to the brig of a Battlestar.

"Does it look like it can sustain the fleet?" inquired D'Anna.

"Doubtful, the air is very thin and terrain harsh, much harsher than New Caprica. We could survive, but it would take generations to fully acclimate to the atmospheric conditions. I doubt the fleet will stop until it reaches Earth, wherever the frak that is."

The P.A. crackled and Dualla's voice filled the brig. _"Captain Lensherr contact the CIC…Captain Lensherr please contact the CIC immediately!"_

"Our time is up anyway, I'll see you soon…I love you D'Anna!" Matt pressed his hand against the glass, and D'Anna did the same. Matt hung up the receiver and walked into the guard's station to use their direct line to the CIC.

"_Lensherr!" Matt spoke into the phone, Dualla soon relayed the executive officer's instructions and the transmission ended. Matt made his way to the flight deck._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

Colonial one's assigned raptor lifted off the deck and preceded down the length of the flight pod into open space, aboard the craft sat President Laura Roslin and an aid. Looking out the windscreen, she saw one Mk. II viper explode from launch tube 10 on the flight pod. It was Hephaestus; she had deliberately requested her old friend escort them to the surface. She knew Matt was spending most of his off duty time in Galactica's brig visiting D'Anna. She wanted to get her friend the change of scenery she knew he needed. The viper took up a four o'clock position and contacted the raptor.

"Presidential raptor this is Hephaestus, I will be your escort to Cronus."

"Roger that Hephaestus, the president extends her thanks for the escort." Replied the civilian pilot that was part of Colonial 1's flight crew.

The flight to Cronus was a short hop, and Matt was soon switching over to atmospheric flight mode. They picked up a Wraith escort very quickly, and Matt was unnerved by their ability to avoid his Dradis. The soon came to a landing and were parked with the other Colonial aircraft. Within minutes of shutting down the Voram engines, they were whisked away to the great hall. The transport to the Great Hall was taken in silence, the last meeting between the two of them had not gone well and their friendship was showing signs of strain.

"Good to see you again, Matt." Said Laura hoping to end the silence.

"I see you got yourself an invite to the big dinner Madam President, may I ask the reason as to why I received the honor of being your escort?" This brought Laura up short, and her cheeks flushed crimson with anger.

"Stop acting like a pretentious ass, Matt. You of all people know that even if someone else was the president the outcome would be the same. William Adama is not going to allow his decisions to be side-stepped or countermanded by me or anyone else when it comes to fleet security, especially when it deals with the Cylons!"

"Then what exactly is your role in this fleet?" Lensherr countered sarcastically.

"Military decisions rest with the admiral…period! The president is advised as a courtesy and unless he starts poking his nose into executive affairs I have no real reason to complain!" Replied Laura.

"That sounds like fertile ground for a military dictatorship." Laura exhaled loudly and faced forward in her seat, they were approaching the great hall. Soon they were escorted through the large wooden doors into the great hall; more chairs had been provided to seat the new arrivals. Laura Roslin walked up to Admiral Adama who had stood up at her approach. Turning towards Overlord Mazzax, he introduced the president.

"Overlord Mazzax, may I introduce the President of the Colonies…President Laura Roslin." Roslin stepped up and offered her hand, which resulted in a confused look on the face of Mazzax, and one of irritation on Adama. Realizing that Mazzax was not accustomed to either the significance of handshaking, or doing so with those he viewed beneath him, Roslin withdrew her hand and nodded.

"Overlord Mazzax, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir. You can imagine our surprise to find fellow humans this far out in uncharted space."

"The cosmos is a vast place Madam President, humans are not alone, nor are they the only intelligent life forms. It has been said that _'life here began out there."_ Replied Mazzax gesturing upward as if towards space. Laura's face blanched as she heard the first words to the sacred scrolls. Elyssa DeAlma was the foremost expert on the sacred scrolls and had spoken up.

"Overlord, your replica of the temple of Apollo, and your knowledge of the star system we originate from and now you give voice to the very words that are the first words of the Sacred Scrolls of the Colonial religion, the similarities between our people are near identical…where did you hear that verse if I may ask?"

Mazzax leaned back in his chair and placed his fingertips together in front of his chin as if in deep thought. Never did he think he would find himself in the position he was faced with. He knew far more about the offworlders before him than they had known about those living on Cronus.

"Young lady, we know that life here began out there because it was written so by the Lords of Kobol themselves over 3,600 years ago. The blood that runs through the veins of every man, woman and whelp on Cronus is the same blood that runs through yours!" The words struck like a thunderclap, the eating and drinking ceased as all eyes and ears were on Mazzax.

"Your people came from the colonies?" asked Adama.

"My descendants came from Kobol itself twenty-four hundred years ago! Our tribe was suffocated by the whims and demands of those who fancied themselves our gods so we set sail upon the solar winds, never to look back. It was written that Apollo himself riding upon a chariot as intense as the sun itself guided our people to this very planet." This revelation was a bombshell, and DeAlma sank into her chair trying to absorb its implications.

"Twenty-four hundred? That would mean they left four hundred years before the Great Exodus. Said Roslin, also trying to absorb what he had just heard.

"The Great Exodus?" replied Mazzax.

DeAlma jumped in. "Shortly after you had left Kobol, there had been a great falling out between the gods and man, twelve tribes fled and colonized twelve different planets. The book of Pythia stated that a thirteenth tribe left Kobol two thousand years earlier and settled upon a planet called Earth. What remains of the twelve colonies of Kobol is crammed aboard 70 odd space ships in search of the home of the thirteenth tribe."

"We never got to why so few colonists remain, and what you are doing upon my doorstep." Said Mazzax.

_This time, it was Adama who spoke up, his voice was loud and crisp. "Overlord, the architect of man's near destruction has chased us across the stars for years. They are bent on the total eradication of the human race, they are called Cylons…and we are responsible for their creation." From there, Adama began to tell the story of humanity's desire to make their life easier, to create artificial life, and how that artificial life had turned upon them in a horrific way._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Tigh stood surveying the bloody scene before him; armed Marines guarded the door to the crime scene and the body lay were it was discovered. The ship's doctor finished his preliminary observation and turned back to the executive officer.

"He's dead Saul!" deadpanned the crusty old doctor. There were very few officers outside of a select few of the command staff that addressed Colonel Tigh by his first name. The ship's surgeon was one of them. Tigh merely frowned.

"Your gift for stating the obvious staggers the mind, major. Would I be correct in assuming that the mutilating of the body was done after death?"

"I would have to say yes, otherwise, as the sergeant at arms could tell you, the blood splatter would be far greater if the victim was still alive and struggling after such trauma was being inflicted upon him." The doctor turned and fell into a spasm of coughs. Years of fumerello smoking had long ago taken its toll and he calmly hacked up disgusting colored phlegm and spat it to the ground. "I'm done here, he's been officially declared dead, and when the marine investigator finishes up here they can ship the deceased to the morgue where I can perform the required autopsy."

"Thank you doctor." Said Tigh casting a disapproving eye towards the phlegm on the floor. After parting instructions for the senior marine investigator and the guards, he departed for another part of Galactica.

The ocean waves crashed hard onto the white sands of the beach, warm rays of sunlight bathed her naked body as the songs of piping plovers could be heard in the distance as the brought food to their nests in the tall sea grass. She had been here for hours, and the peace and quiet rejuvenated her body, mind and soul. The fine white sand lightly coated her tanned skin, her long; dirty-blonde hair wet with the salt water lay in tangles across the soft bamboo mat that she lay upon.

Here life was good; a small remote island inhabited by only wildlife a few thousand kilometers off Caprica's western coast. The perfect place to get away from it all, and only one way to get there; by boat. The island was not big enough for a runway.

The song of the plover and crashing of the waves gave way to the sound of a bolt being thrown on a metal hatch, and then footsteps. "D'Anna?" Opening her eyes she saw the tall frame of Galactica's executive officer standing directly in the sun, she did not have to see two armed guards with rifles pointing at her to know they too were in the room.

"Colonel Tigh you're blocking the sun, you don't want me to tan unevenly do you?" said D'Anna smiling. The guards looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Alternating guard shifts had reported that the Cylon prisoner had often exhibited bizarre behavior, as if the room she was confined to was somehow different. Now they had found her on the old cot positioned as if she was sunbathing of all things. Clearly, she was losing whatever passed for a mind in that beautiful artificial body they thought.

Tigh merely raised an eyebrow and replied, "We wouldn't want that now, shall we Ms. Biers?" said Tigh moving to the side.

"Ah Colonel you humor me, that's sweet." Said D'Anna jumping off the cot in one fluid motion, which caught both guards by surprise as they leveled their rifles at her. "Gentlemen…far too slow, I would have taken his rifle and bludgeoned you with it before he could have pulled the trigger had I wanted to." Said D'Anna to the younger looking guard smiling.

"Perhaps you would tell me how you planned to avoid my relocating your silica pathways across the room with a high velocity round from my service revolver?" Said Tigh calmly, his hand upon his still-holstered weapon.

"I will admit that would be a tough one, colonel." Replied D'Anna with her arms folded across her ample chest. "Do you require something? I'm afraid that I have nothing to offer what few guests I'm allowed."

"On New Caprica, a group of unknown number formed an execution squad referred to as the Thunderbolts of Zeus. They acted without official charter or approval of the resistance leadership when it came to dealing with collaborators with humanoid Cylons occupying our newly formed city."

"You should be quite pleased colonel, your men did their job with precision, and they successfully destroyed over 200 Centurions, 40 humanoid Cylons and a respectable number of your own people who were merely trying to survive any way they could."

"My men?"

"Come now Colonel, we both know that you were the leader of the resistance forces on New Caprica when the remainder of the fleet was hiding, biding their time to launch a rescue mission."

"While I proudly admit that I was the senior officer leading the resistance, let me assure you that I never condoned the formation of the Thunderbolts, or their methods. I found their 'message' barbaric."

"Then what do you want?"

"You and your fellow Cylons interrogated many of our people that were unfortunate enough to find themselves as 'guests' of your detention facility. You had moles in the resistance, and moles amongst people close but not active in the resistance. I am asking you here and now if you have any insight on the Thunderbolts, who they may be."

D'anna's eyes narrowed and she dropped both arms to her sides, fists balled up tight. "There has been a second incident, hasn't there?" Where is Matthew?" demanded D'Anna, her voice more like a growl. The two Marines tensed and moved closer. Tigh had ordered them both to stand down.

"Captain Lensherr is perfectly safe; he is off ship at the moment. You are correct though, there has been a second attack, and sadly, this one was successful. Anything you might share of the Thunderbolts would look favorably on you, Ms. Biers."

D'Anna relaxed and sat back on the corner of her cot. "I like you Tigh, I always have. Even when I was posing as a reporter from Fleet News you had always made me laugh. Loud, gruff and drunk, a highly functioning alcoholic. Tell me, still tossing back that cheap Caprican whiskey?" Tigh merely stared at her, a thin smile creeping across his lips. She paused as if in thought. "The Thunderbolts of Zeus had kept a low profile, always attacking when the least amount of witnesses were about and always with multiple avenues of escape available. They were 'professionals!' We long suspected that they were actually part of either _Galactica_ or _Pegasus_ security forces."

Tigh became uneasy; the same suspicion was voiced between himself and the admiral immediately after the attack on Lensherr. It was unfathomable that a member of Galactica's crew could have been a Thunderbolt. He was not so certain about those that had transferred over from the Battlestar Pegasus before it sacrificed itself at the battle of New Caprica. During that final battle, the skeleton crew scrambled aboard waiting Raptors and jump away, leaving the Pegasus, fatally damaged and unmanned to collide with a retreating basestar, destroying it. As Pegasus explodes, the remains of her starboard flight pod collide with another basestar, destroying it in the process. Pegasus had been a troubled Battlestar, her crew forced to commit heinous acts to survive in the aftermath of the attacks on the colonies and military defenses. Admiral Adama had mixed emotions of the crew he inherited, and it had taken much time and effort to change behaviors and redefine what was acceptable behavior of a member of the Colonial military.

It was entirely possible that a rogue group remained to form such an execution squad on New Caprica. After their escape, the joy and relief quickly vanished and was replaced with who was to blame and acts of vengeance against those that collaborated with the occupation forces of the Cylon Empire. With an integrated crew, and civilians conscripted to fill in vacant slots in the military, not even Galactica was immune to the types of personnel that would have been quickly barred from military service in times of peace.

"Colonel, Matthew was attacked in a latrine in the pilot's section of the Galactica's lower decks. Those areas are reserved for pilots and air wing support personnel, are they not?" asked D'Anna.

"They are!" Replied the XO, not liking where this was going.

"Than it would be safe to say that the he was attacked by fellow pilots, support personnel, or security forces that would not arouse suspicion if discovered in that restricted part of the Galactica." There it was, the accusation that neither he nor Admiral Adama could bring himself to voice.

"The specialist that was murdered was not a pilot, nor a member of the air wing's support team; he worked in the mess hall." Said Tigh.

"Then I would check your surveillance cameras near the hallways in his living quarters to see if they picked up anything unusual, or personnel out of place." Offered D'Anna.

"Thank you, Ms. Biers. I will inform the Admiral of your help in this matter." Said Tigh turning to leave. He paused at the door and turned. "May I inquire as to what you meant by the first thing you said to me upon my arrival in this cell?" referring to the tanning statement.

"_No, you may not!" smiled D'Anna as she lay back down on her bunk. Tigh arched his eyebrow and shook his head bewildered. There was most definitely something more to this Cylon than meets the eye he thought to himself._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15.

Commandant Leiter looked out the observation port on his Destroyer, the lower half of the immense y-shaped hull of the Cylon Basestar stretched out before him. How could anything so big roam the cosmos? His entire life he had been made to believe that the Eastern alliance was the most powerful force in the universe, a chance encounter with the Battlestar Galactica shook his faith in his people's military might, his "alliance" with Cavil and the Cylons had obliterated what little belief he clung to about his military superiority. There had been major improvements over the months since the Cylons first visited his planet, their sub light engine technology had been drastically improved. Each Destroyer was now equipped with a limited faster than light jump drive. Nowhere near as advanced as the Colonial or Cylon jump drives, but a vast improvement over what they had.

His benefactors were in pursuit of the last surviving Battlestar and her civilian fleet, but they were spread too thin across the galaxy in their search, and he suspected that the Eastern Alliance was being used to augment their forces. He had no allusions as to how long they might last once they had located and eradicated the renegade fleet. In the meantime, he would learn all he could from the Cylons, until in time they could change the status of the "alliance" in their favor. He looked forward to meeting the Galactica again, this time with his upgraded destroyer wolf pack. Their offensive weaponry had been upgraded as well as their propulsion units, and he felt confident that any of his destroyers could hold their own against a Colonial viper. With enough Destroyers, he felt emboldened to confront the aging Battlestar that had humiliated them earlier.

"Your participation in the hunt is God's will, and will be justly rewarded my friend." The number two Cylon model known as Leobin Conoy entered the bridge of the Destroyer, his voice was like the echo from an ancient crypt, his presence made Leiter uncomfortable. He was the liaison between the command Basestar and his own Destroyer, and had been accompanied by six fearsome Centurions. Leiter knew that Leobin was there to ensure compliance with Cavil's plans.

Galactica's pilots had a recreation room apart from the official Officer's club several decks above. Due to limited room, and the fact that both officer and enlisted personnel were crucial in mission to preserve the human race, Admiral Adama allowed commissioned and non-commissioned use of the club. The pilot's rec room was maintained in "pilot's country," lower in the ship, and closer to the direct travel points to the launch bays in the event of an emergency. The room was filled with off duty pilots playing cards or on the makeshift "Pyramid X"court, as everyone speculated what this new planet would mean for them.

Tari "Ares" Adams was preparing to take her shot with the cantaloupe-sized pyramid ball when Lieutenants Anastashia "Orion" Liathain, and Gwynn "Stingray" Sinclair approached her. The two had just come off a CAP and were looking to unwind.

"Hey Ares, you realize that fraking game is nothing like the real thing, don't ya?" asked Stingray taking a drink from her beer stein.

"I'll take whatever I can get for recreation aboard this bucket, Gwynn. At least on Pegasus we had a regulation-sized court set up in the rear of the port hanger bay. Of course Pegasus was at half its crew compliment, and unencumbered by civilian considerations back then." She said heaving the ball with lightning speed against the opening that passed for the goal.

"I would have loved to have been assigned Pegasus, what an incredible ship she was." Said Anastashia.

"Trust me; Orion…the last person you wanted to serve under was Admiral Cain. The _Pegasus_ under her command was very different from those that succeeded her. Just ask Peacemaker!" said Tari bitterly. Memories of life under Cain always seemed to make the scars on her back feel fresh.

"Speaking of which, where is Peacemaker?" asked Stingray.

"Probably off in his quarters fraking Showboat!" chimed in Lt. Kara "Destiny" Fan, referring to Lt. Marcia "Showboat" Case, the woman that had captured the once blackened heart of former Libran Police officer Jon "Peacemaker" Horlach. Both had originated from _Pegasus_, but carried none of the reprehensible baggage that seemed to boil in many that had transferred over to _Galactica_ after the battle at New Caprica, which destroyed the _Pegasus_.

"At least someone is getting fraked around here." Grumbled Ares. Her own lover, Tony "Falcon" Bastain was currently on the surface of Cronus. A few beers had thrown off her usually perfect aim, and the ball caught a corner of the opening deflecting it at an odd angle away from the goal and through a tear in the net that prevented the ball from leaving the game area. It landed on a nearby triad table, bouncing up and striking another viper pilot in the shoulder causing him to spill his drink. Swearing, he stood up and wiped the beer from his shirt.

"Hey Ares, your aim is as good as Hephaestus' taste in women!" shouted the man. Tari spun around; she had been in a foul mood and the fact that she did not think all that highly of this particular member of Blue squadron made it worse.

"What the frak is that supposed to mean, Spoons?" she asked with attitude. Lt. Paul "Spoons" Conroy walked straight over and got within inches of Tari who stood about three inches shorter than he did.

"What it means, sweetie is that that your buddy, Captain Matthew Lensherr's taste in women sucks dead Cylon's ass…much like your aim." He was grinning ear to ear and seemed to be daring her to take a swing.

"You Blue squadron pukes seem to think you're the god's gift to the viper, don't you?" asked Tari getting nose to nose with the smug viper jock. "First off my aim is good enough to shoot your muscle-bound ass out of the skies, and second, who Hephaestus chooses to have in his life his nobody's damned business, you couldn't carry his sweaty jock strap, never mind qualify to be in his squadron you jerk. Why Starbuck puts up with you I'll never know."

"Maybe we'll put your overconfidence in your flying skills to the test some day, Ares. It'll be good for that smart ass attitude of yours to learn a little humility. Lensherr made many enemies the day he chose to run around with that toaster. No doubting she's hot, but the bottom line is that she's not a real woman, and more importantly, she's a fraking Cylon…the people responsible for 50,000 of us running for our lives across uncharted space. Therefore, before you start backing the wrong horse, you better understand that every daggit has its day. The Thunderbolts of Zeus already took a shot at him; eventually those crazy fraks will get him. Eventually the old man will come to his senses and airlock that thing we have sitting in the brig."

"Spoons you really are a stupid fraker. Has it ever dawned on that limited mind of yours that the Cylon we have in custody is a military asset, to be used against them?"

"You believe that girlie, keep living in your little fantasy world where we might all live in peace with those that tried to eradicate our very existence, and leave the fighting and killing to those of us with the guts and calling to do it!" Tari's face turned crimson with rage as she stepped back to giver herself room to fight, Destiny and Orion saw the danger and jumped between the two.

"Give it a rest Tari, this goon isn't worth the time in the brig for fighting," said Kara forcefully. "Let him go back to his table and stop stinking up our end of the room."

"You could only be so lucky to have my stink on your skin, Destiny. Though if you were lucky…that wouldn't be the only thing to grace your skin." Conroy's comment was like nails across a chalk board to Tari, something about him reminded her of her daily visits from Lt. Thorne in _Pegasus_' brig when she was suspected of being a Cylon skin-job, or collaborator herself. She had no doubt that Spoons would have gleefully taken the job as Cain's official resident torturer after Thorne's premature death. The confrontation was brought to an end by a new arrival, A Colonial Marine Captain who was off duty, and a close friend of Spoon's.

"I think this discussion has run its course people, lets move the frak along before things get out of hand. He glared at Spoons and jerked his head towards the door, a message that Spoons reluctantly acted on. The Marine then turned to Ares. "You know Lieutenant, we have enough enemies to fight without having to fight amongst ourselves, and I'd hate to think that one of our own would actually take the side of a Cylon-lover, over a real hero with at least eighty confirmed raider kills under his belt."

"With all due respect, Captain…"Spoons" barely has the mental capacity to remember to put deodorant on in the morning, much less fly a viper. How he ever got into pilot's school, never mind passed it, I will never know. Perhaps he's better off hanging out with your gorillas in _your_ recreation room, then bad-mouthing someone like Matt Lensherr in front of his own pilots." If there was one thing the Marine Captain hated was having his Marines referred to as gorillas, he found the term derogatory and offensive to a highly trained and skilled Colonial Marine.

"My 'gorillas' are the boots on the ground that keep the people of this fleet safe just as much as any of you hotshots in the air do in your starfighters." Replied the Captain as he glared at Ares. "Enjoy your drink…lieutenant!"

"What a jerk!" said Orion as the marine captain departed the rec room. "He has quite the opinion of himself and his goons, half the marines we got from _Pegasus_ are pretty dysfunctional."

The trio returned to the Pyramid X game and the room's tension level noticeably dipped. Tari didn't like what she was seeing, too many people coming out against Hephaestus, there had been negative comments in the past but there seemed to be more and more, and from all levels of the military regarding his relationship with D'Anna Biers. She hoped that Matt watched his back.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16.

The remainder of the food had long been cleared from the long table; the visiting Colonials had feasted on foods that had never before graced their sense of taste. It had been years since Tony Bastain had eaten a steak that large; the thick-cut ribeye was distinguished by rich marbling that slowly melted during the cooking, basting the meat and imparting a unique flavor that Tony had found utterly mouth-watering. He wished Tari had been able to join him in this feast, but she was languishing up on the bucket. A tall ale had been poured for him, a look from Starbuck imparted the message…'limit yourself to one, you're on the old man's flight detail for frak's sake.' Admiral Adama eloquently described the first exodus from the Colonies, and their struggle to escape the Cyrannus star system on their quest to find the mythical home of the 13th tribe known as Earth. Twenty billion humans were culled to less than 50,000 forced to survive in cramped starships never intended for prolonged travel.

"Certainly the colonies posted a variety of outposts along neighboring star systems had they not?" inquired Mazzax.

"Yes, they had." Replied Adama. "Mainly observatories, listening posts and an extremely limited military resupply stations. Most, if not all of them had been discovered when the Cylons infiltrated the defense network and also targeted in the opening assault or in the secondary sweep up after all opposition was crushed."

"My people have had almost two full millennium to acclimate to the harsh conditions on Cronus. I would gladly open my home to our long lost brothers and sisters but I fear you would not survive in acceptable numbers. Our atmosphere is far too thin for your physiology to adapt. The best I can offer you is much needed food and water upon your journey, and wish you the speed of Mercury in your travel."

Laura Roslin sat quietly, listening to the exchanges during the last six hours dining in the great hall. She, along with most of the colonials present felt the slight fatigue due to the thinner oxygen percentage and moved around as little as possible. It was time for her to become more engaged in the conversation. "Overlord, on behalf of the fleet I would humbly thank you for your generosity, there are many hungry people crammed aboard those ships, many which were not designed for star travel. Realizing that we cannot live here on Cronus, I would be hesitant to leave so soon before being able to learn more about our brothers and sisters here. We all came from Kobol, and I'm sure we have so much to learn from each other."

Adama knew Roslin was right, but he also knew they could not afford to stay too long in any one system. The fleet would be brought from the outside of the system to orbit above Cronus to expedite the resupplying of the fleet. Roslin would have some of the fleet's scholars and historians meet with their counterparts here on Cronus to catalogue the previously unknown tribe's journey from Kobol to this system. From a military point of view, he knew that the CAG would kill to learn some of the dradis-avoiding technology of the wraith fighters, and would have to address that.

At that moment, one of the Marines in his detail stepped up to him and informed him that the executive officer wished to speak with him immediately. Excusing himself, he took the hand held radio and headphones from the marine and stepped outside of the great hall for some privacy. Switching to the scrambled frequency, he called up to _Galactica_.

**Combat Information Center - **_**Galactica**_

"Colonel Tigh, I have the admiral on a scrambled line." Informed Dualla.

Tigh picked up the receiver on the side of the plotting table. "Admiral…there has been a murder, work of the 'Thunderbolts I'm afraid!"

"Who was it?" asked Adama.

"Specialist Thomas Caline assigned to the mess hall." A member of _Galactica's_ mess hall was the last person Adama would have thought was a top priority for the Thunderbolts. He had a real problem on his hands, an attempted murder on one of his squadron leaders, now an actual death. This was the first murder since New Caprica and it was bound to cause panic amongst the fleet.

"We need to keep this confined to _Galactica_, this gets out that the Thunderbolts are back in action we're going to have mass panic on our hands."

"I've already informed the Marine commander that this needs to be kept under wraps. The press has been informed that specialist Caline died of an allergic reaction to a combination of medications."

"You know that won't hold for very long, especially if the Thunderbolts strike again." Said Adama. He had to sit down on a nearby marble bench, the thin air was getting to him, and he needed to get back to his ship. "Look Saul, we're making some progress down here, we have our pilots back, and it turns out that these people are actually from Kobol."

"Indeed? I'm sure Poseidon is in her version of heaven right about now."

"She's in her element and asking questions." Replied Bill. He had to laugh to himself at the thought. Elyssa was probably making Mazzax's ears bleed with her questions.

"I took a moment to stop by our Cylon prisoner, and she confirmed what we had suspected about our own security forces possibly having ties to the Thunderbolts."

"Just what we fraking need right now." Said Adama rubbing his temples. "Alright Saul, I want the fleet brought to our location. Mazzax has graciously offered to resupply us, but we cannot even contemplate colonizing Cronus, the atmosphere is far too thin. It took them two millennium to adjust, and we just don't have that kind of time."

"What is our estimated time in orbit around Cronus?"

"Off the top of my head I'd have to guess about a week at most, I want the _Gideon_, _Kimba Huta_, and the _Argo Navis_ prepared to land to take on supplies. Also, send the recon raptors out further on rotations; I want a standby set of emergency coordinates ready on all ship at all times. If the Cylons do enter this sector I do not want them finding our fleet parked around another planet packed with more humans."

"Sound precautions, consider it already done." Replied Tigh.

"Anything else before signing off?"

"Actually the representatives from Virgon and Aerilon have been inquiring about the President's return to _Colonial 1_; they are calling an emergency quorum session to discuss Cronus."

"Ministers Nightshade and Barca; two of the more ambitious members of that useless excuse for a debate club. Roslin had better watch her back with those two, I will see if I can pry her away from the dining table and inform her of their inquiries. Keep the watch, XO." With the transmission cut, Adama returned to the great hall where Mazzax was holding court to a captive audience.

"From there, the son of Zeus and Leto stretched out his mighty hand and said…_**'Behold ye exhausted travelers, thy journey hath come to an end…before you lay the planet thou shalt call Cronus, in honor of the leader of the Titans, my grandfather.'**_And upon this world my people have lived and flourished for generations, we pay homage to the god Apollo; god of light, and sun; prophecy and truth."

"Do your people worship any of the other gods?" asked Elyssa.

"We do, but Apollo is first in our hearts, because he protected us on the journey, his strong bow arm held high as his blazing chariot led us to our new home, far from the oppression of Kobol."

General Xalain noticed Kara Thrace standing toward the end of the great hall; she had been admiring the depictions of the great journey from Kobol painted on the wall. The artist was a master, rendering a near photo-perfect rendition of the history of this long lost tribe's journey from where all life began.

"You have an eye for art I see." Said Xalain. "Forgive me if I am intruding upon your solitude."

"No intrusion at all, general. This rendition is amazing, it spans half of the great hall, and it must have taken a generation to paint."

The general smiled and replied. "It had taken several generations. My great, great grandfather had been the keeper of the ancient scrolls that kept a detailed accounting of the journey from Kobol. He had commanded his sons to depict the journey on the walls of what then were the Overlord's private chambers. Over time, the private chambers became the Great Hall you see before you now… open to all the people!"

"You really believe it was Apollo that guided your people here?" asked Kara turning to Xalain.

"You don't believe in the gods, do you captain?"

"Actually I do, though I like to think I control my own future, and that it is not directed by an unseen, unheard omnipotent force or forces. There are times I wonder if religion has caused more harm then good." Xalain was taken aback by her directness; he too had his own private doubts about the gods, but kept them to himself over the years. Mazzax was a true believer, and worshiped Apollo; he did not take kindly to criticism of the gods.

"I'm very interested in your wraiths, general. Especially their ability to avoid our dradis, your technology does not seem that far behind Colonial, yet we can't detect, or put a weapons lock on your fighters."

"Well let me put your curiosity to rest, it isn't a technological feat, it is the ore that we mine from Cronus that makes our fighters invisible to your detection systems." Kara had immediately grasped the importance of such an ore. She would have to mention that to the old man, and see if they could not get some of that ore back to the mining ships of the fleet to use towards new viper and raptor construction.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17.

_**From the Adama Journals:**_

_**After receiving the report of specialist Caline's murder aboard Galactica I immediately returned to the ship, leaving diplomacy to be conducted by President Roslin and her people. The autopsy has been completed, and the specialist will be given full burial honors at 1800 hours Tomorrow. Captain DeAlma requested and was granted permission to remain on Cronus to study areas that fall under historic categories, which is her secondary expertise. There has been very little written that anyone could find on this lost tribe. Of course, there are extremely few of the original sacred scrolls left in our care. Any chance of locating a scroll that even mentions their exodus from Kobol would have to be painstakingly searched through the archives back on Caprica; an exercise that is now obviously out of the question.**_

_**An Overlord called Mazzax, a charismatic speaker who rules the inhabitants of Cronus with the absolute and unconditional love and support of his people, leads this previously unknown Kobolian tribe. Their level of technology is below that of current Colonial standard, and judging from their architecture, they mix technological with classic design. The recreation of the Temple of Apollo is amazing in the attention to correct dimension and positioning of statues held within it. Mazzax had claimed that the god Apollo himself guided their tribe's journey from Kobol, leading them directly to a barely habitable planet they would name Cronus.**_

_**Environmental considerations make it impossible for our people to colonize Cronus, the oxygen level is thinner than what we are used to, and Mazzax's people have had almost 2,000 years to adjust to it. We have been generously offered to resupply our fleet with livestock, plant-life and water, which is desperately needed to sustain our people for the journey to Earth. Galactica currently carries a near maximum fuel load and our raw Tylium supplies are adequate for at least eight more months worth of processing.**_

_**Captain Thrace has discovered the secret of the Wraith fighter's ability to avoid detection from our Dradis. It is not technological in nature as we first suspected, but in the metallic alloy in which they are created from. Cronus has a unique metal ore in large quantities in their northern hemisphere, and we have been given permission for our mining ships to extricate some of that ore to use in repairs to ships in the fleet, and new viper construction. All of this seems too good to be true, but I will not debate the wisdom or the timing of this chance meeting, I will accept it and continue with our journey.**_

**Galactica CIC - 1030 hours.**

"Admiral, I have the vice president on the line." Informed the communications officer.

Adama glanced over at Tigh who merely raised an eyebrow. "Patch him through down here, please." Adama picked up the receiver and greeted Tom Zarek, a man he greatly disliked. "Good morning Mr. Vice President, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you might be able to brief me on Cronus, my calls to the president have yet to be returned, and members of the quorum would like to be briefed as soon as possible." Said Zarek.

"I'm quite sure the president is aware of her duties regarding the council, Mr. Vice President. I would be hard pressed to believe she would purposely avoid your inquiries." Said Adama.

"Admiral, you know as well as I that Laura Roslin marches to her own beat, her dislike of the council is not necessarily a big secret. Ministers Nimoy, Nightshade and Barca are insistent about traveling down to the surface to meet with the inhabitants."

"As I'm sure your formidable sources have already informed you, the inhabitants of Cronus are humans that lived on Kobol with our ancestors. They had fled Kobol four hundred years _before_ the great exodus."

"Colonials this far out of our own star system?" began Zarek. "How did..." Adama cut him off.

"You'll have to excuse me, Mr. Vice President, I'm in the middle of something important at the moment." With that, Adama hung up the phone.

**Cronus – Day six of the fleet's arrival.**

Shuttles assigned to the _Kimba Huta, _a cold storage ship,had worked around the clock to transport the goods that had been harvested for them, back up to their waiting ship. 70 percent of the donated livestock had been slaughtered and packaged for transport, the remaining 30 percent would be housed within a specially converted transport ship in order to breed and provide future beef and milk for the fleet on their journey to Earth.

The _Botanical Cruiser _was an FTL- capable agricultural ship that had long been used at her minimum capacity, until now. Hydroponics cribs are loaded with alien fruit trees, vegetables and other assorted plant life. Water transport was taking the longest time to commence, once the tankers were able to break free of orbit fully loaded they had to offload their tanks into _Galactica's_ main intakes, which took a substantial amount of time.

The _Majahual _and_ Monarch, _two of the fleet's only mining ships were busy in the planet's northern hemisphere extracting the dradis deflecting metal ore from the ground. They would be instrumental in the ability to build replacement vipers and raptors, as well as replacement exterior hull plating and interior decking that was in high demand among the various ships in the fleet. During this time, most of _Galactica's_ pilots had returned to the ship and were awaiting departure from Cronus to resume the journey to Earth.

Aboard the luxury liner _Chrion, _two men meet in a very private room. Both men had exercised caution to prevent being seen and had entered through separate hatches. The mood was not pleasant. The man sitting in the large chair spoke first.

"You realize that I never authorized thunderbolt operations aboard _Galactica_, or anywhere else in the fleet. Your attempt on the life of Lensherr and the death of Caline is bringing far too much unwanted attention." The man said angrily.

"Look, with all due respect…if you're feeling soft about this than step aside and let me handle the remaining targets on our list. These people deserve to die! They all collaborated with the fraking Cylon occupation force, hunted down our own people or provided information that allowed members of the resistance to be hunted down and terminated. I see no difference between New Caprica and now."

"The difference, you fraking idiot, is that the president issued a blanket pardon for all people who were on New Caprica. There was not much choice, and at the time, the only reasonable route to take. Speaking of collaborators, how did Lensherr figure into your list, he was part of the resistance, when did he collaborate?"

"Are you insane?" spouted the man leaping off the table he was sitting on. "He's worse than a collaborator; at least those scumbags were trying to save their miserable lives, but Lensherr? I consider him far worse he is a traitor! He's a Cylon-loving traitor that will have his day that I assure you."

"No…he won't. He will be left alone, and you will instruct your team to leave him alone or you will not like the consequences. Captain Lensherr is a high profile target, not just because of his involvement with the humanoid Cylon, but because he is a squadron leader tasked with protecting this fleet. You kill him and you will bring down the wrath of Adama upon your own heads. Adama would not rest until he found the assassins."

"Frak Adama, from what I hear he can't stand the Cylon lover either. Lensherr is gone; he just doesn't know it yet."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I won't allow your emotions to wreak havoc on the battlestar, or risk having a serious investigation into the killings of collaborators on New Caprica. You know that in time they will uncover leads that will lead them to you and me. That daggit will be allowed to remain sleeping, is that understood?"

"I'm afraid it isn't understood…_at all!_ My team reconstituted itself without your help, and without your blessing, which I find insulting, and mildly suspicious. Those names will be dealt with, and there is nothing you can do to stop it without bringing the light of truth upon yourself. Good day!"

He turned to leave but did not get far. The barb felt like a wasp sting, it traveled less than 15 feet at 180 feet per second. Looking down he saw the thin-coiled wire attached to the barb imbedded in his arm, he immediately realized the significance of it, and the danger he was in. His last glance was of the man who had formed the Thunderbolts of Zeus holding a small hand held device that had been concealed on his lap. He depressed the button and discharged a 50,000-volt electrical charge, which resulted in the larger man's immediate loss of neuromuscular control, balance and the ability to perform a coordinated action such as retrieving the concealed silenced pistol he brought with him.

He lay on the floor in spasms, unable to yell out or move. His assailant loomed over him with a sad look upon his face. "Your team did incredible work on New Caprica, you delivered justice to all who deserved it, but your mission ended when the president's pardon was issued to all collaborators. It had to be done; there was no other way without the fleet tearing themselves apart over the issue. You were a good soldier, but in the end your failure to obey the order to step down is what cost you your life, Lensherr was no collaborator, and your hatred for him almost cost us all." He depressed the trigger again, but for a much shorter duration, enough to render the victim unconscious, now he could start his work.

Matthew Lensherr had just come from an enjoyable visit with D'Anna, he was very happy and her words always soothed his soul. He had to find a way to win her release from that brig. She was no threat; she turned against her people and was instrumental in getting the launch keys for the ships impounded on New Caprica. The trip to his quarters was a long one, and he was tired, very tired. Peacemaker was on the _Zephyr_ with Showboat for some R & R and their two ASL's were most likely soaking up a card game since both squadrons were off duty; he would have the cabin to himself for some peace and quiet.

Entering his four-man quarters he removed his utility jacket, surprisingly the privacy blanket was pulled on the bunk above his own which indicated that his own assistant squadron leader was not playing cards but asleep as well. Sitting down on the side of his bunk he started to remove his boots, he was so tired that he never felt the thick braided rope drop over his head and quickly cinched up in one fluid motion. He was yanked off his feet from above. A man rolled out from the storage compartment under the bed to grab and firmly secure his feet while another man rolled out from under Peacemaker's bunk. He slipped behind Lensherr and bound his hands with wire ties.

"You'll have to excuse us Captain, we're short a man for some reason so we all have to pull an extra duty. Just returning from a pleasant visit with your Cylon whore? I hope it was worth it, because that was the last time you will be seeing her you fraking traitor. Death to he that would betray his people!" yelled the man. Lensherr's eyes widened in horror as he saw the flash of the dagger in the half-light.

It was brought straight down into his breastbone; the heavy blade easily passing through and burying itself deep into his thoracic region. The rope around his neck was tied to the top bunk, and he hung their dying. The blade had severed his aorta, and he felt himself drowning in his own blood as life quickly deserted him. His last thoughts were of D'Anna, and how he never expected his life to end this way. The three men slowly melted into darkness as Matthew Lensherr passed from consciousness, he could hear his heart beating slower and slower, feel the blood shooting out of the open wound with every diminishing beat.

He felt a strange sensation, like his soul being gently peeled away from his body, traveling through space unaided by viper or space suit. He was not drifting; he was traveling at incredible speeds, experiencing the cosmos in a completely new way, utilizing senses in an unbelievable way. His ears heard the flickering of massive solar flares from a nearby sun; he heard asteroids striking together in a nearby asteroid belt. His eyes registered events on wavelengths far different from the spectrum visible to the human eye. Was this how death felt? He felt as if his body was surfing the solar winds and smiled at the sensations he was experiencing. The tugging of his soul grew stronger as he picked up even more speed, he felt like he was traveling at the speed of light itself.

He was being drawn to a dark region of space; he soon picked up objects that seemed very familiar, yet very alien to him. He passed through the largest object and felt compressed, still traveling at high speed, yet in all directions as if through an intricate maze. He could feel the blood again, filling his lungs, suffocating him. He was no longer moving and blinded by incredible light that bathed him in their warm glow. Where was he? The sensation of drowning intensified and he struggled to get up. He strained to reach the light and finally broke free. He was in a resurrection chamber, filled with identical copies of himself. Matthew Lensherr was a Cylon.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18.

There were at least a dozen copies of Matthew Lensherr staring him right in the face; they stood with arms folded across their chests, glancing down accusingly. Not one had said a word, and Matt had tried to clear the thick opaque substance from his eyes. He was still too weak to pull himself up out of the tub, and he sat back to catch his breath and calm himself.

"No fraking way am I a Cylon!" he muttered softly. The silent copies seemed to part like a wave as a very familiar humanoid Cylon appeared. It was the number two model known as Leobin Conoy. His piercing eyes bore into Lensherr like a laser as he slowly approaches the resurrection tub. He squats down on his heels and seems to study a severely dazed and confused Matthew Lensherr.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, _Hephaestus._" Said Leobin using Lensherr's call sign.

"What is going on? There is no way I am a Cylon." Protested Lensherr.

"Then how do you explain your arrival here, or these copies?" Said Leobin gesturing around the resurrection chamber and to the copies. "You have no idea what you are, but I do, and what I do know is that you do not belong here…return to the land of the living, enjoy it while you can because with the crack of the braided rope you may be undone for all eternity." With those words, he reached over the side of the ressurection tank and pushed Lensherr beneath the surface of the opaque gel. Too weakened to fight, he is powerless to stop Leobin from drowning him and the last thing he sees is Leobin's hideous smile, then darkness. The only sound he hears is his own screaming, and his name being spoken in the background, growing louder.

"_Matt!"_

Matt opened his eyes to see his assistant squadron leader hovering over him, his hands upon his shoulders as if trying to wake him up. _It was a dream! _ He thought to himself. He was soaked to the skin in sweat, and he was tachycardic; he could feel his heartbeat banging away like a jackhammer. "What…what time is it?"

"Twenty minutes before reveille thank you very much. I didn't want those extra 20 minutes skipper, especially after going to bed only four hours ago." Complained Lt. Steve "Photon" Parsec as he sat on the edge of Peacemaker's empty bunk. "Sounded like a pretty good nightmare Matt, care to share the details?" 

"No, I really do not want to share that nightmare; it was so fraking real though."

"Well you've had a lot on your mind, only a matter of time before felgercarb caught up with you. Come on, let's grab some chow…we'll beat the rush."

"No, you go ahead Steve; I have someone to see shortly." Replied Lensherr grabbing his toiletry bag and heading for the shower. He stopped and went back to his locker and retrieved his service pistol, which he concealed in his towel. Photon was worried, not much rattled the boss, and he was seeing a side to Matt Lensherr he had never seen before.

**Galactica CIC - twenty seconds to reveille.**

Colonel Tigh glanced at his chronometer and then looked over to Lt. Gaeta and nodded. Waiting for the clock to strike the appropriate time, Gaeta promptly threw the switch titled _REVEILLE_. Lighting in non-essential areas that were at half power sprung to life bathing the entire ship in bright lights as a series of audible tones sounded. Gaeta keyed his lip mic and spoke.

"_Reveille, reveille, reveille…all first watch personnel report for duty, the ship is at condition four. Reveille, reveille, reveille…first watch now in effect." _Those still asleep in their bunks exited to start their duty shift as the outgoing shift prepared to be relieved.

Colonel Tigh had poured himself a large mug of coffee, minus the shot of whiskey he used to add in the old days. Within moments, the Admiral stepped through the hatch leading into the CIC where the first person to see him loudly announced "Admiral on deck!"

"As you were." He quickly replied, he approached the plotting table where a steward approached with his private coffee mug, steaming with black coffee. "Good morning XO, I see that you beat me to the CIC this morning. Did you sleep here or what?" asked Adama with a slight smile. Tigh merely grunted and handed the clipboard from the third watch officer to the CO. "Captain Kelly had the third watch rotation last night, he reports that the mining ships report that they will be ready to cease operations by 1630 hours, and that all other resupplying operations are near 90 percent completed."

"Damn these people busted their asses on the resupply. Once we clear this system, I think some extended shore leave aboard the _Chrion_ may be in order for those people."

"I agree, the resupply was done in record time. Moving along... Peacemaker and Destiny have the CAP this morning, and Boomer and Helo have been assigned transport duty for the quorum to visit Cronus.

After a quick shave and shower, Matthew Lensherr walked with purpose towards the brig. He needed to tell D'Anna about his dream. He entered the brig and signed the logbook that accounted for the times of the visit. Picking up the receiver that separated them between the shatterproof glass he told her every detail about his dream.

**Lead Cylon Basestar – Command and Control Center**

Cavil seemed pleased with events as they unfolded; advanced scouts had picked up a faint trail of what could only be the human fleet. The haystack that their missing needle was in just shrank significantly. Adama had traveled through this sector; it was only a matter of time before they picked up a stronger trail.

A number five model Cylon, a man known to the colonials as Aaron Doral was monitoring the Data Stream He was uneasy with the collusion that the Ones struck with the humans from the Eastern Alliance. Fives were probably the most militaristic, and fanatic of the known humanoid Cylon models who thought the only good human was one no longer converting oxygen to carbon dioxide. The scouts had picked up some sort of tylium residual that might have been from a faulty engine burn on one of the colonial ships. These civilian ships were never meant for prolonged space flight, and required frequent maintenance. He would fine-tune the Basestar's instrumentation to start tracking the faint tylium trail. Providing the fleet did not make a faster-than-light jump, in time they should be able to pick up a stronger trail. He voiced his uneasiness once again.

"I must point out again that I do not agree with this alliance you struck with the humans, you provided them with advanced propulsion technology that has moved them decades, perhaps even a century ahead of their limited grasp of technology. Do we not have enough of a challenge trying to destroy the Colonials?"

"My dear five, you of all people should know by now that I do not act without cross purposes. I want all of the filth in one spot when we finally clean up the mess called humanity." said Cavil chillingly. "Leiter and his Eastern Alliance thugs are nothing more than tools, have faith brother." The Cylon that the humans knew as Aaron Doral was not placated, but the decision to use the Alliance was agreed to by majority vote, he would see the plan carried out. The bulk of the Eastern Alliance forces were still on their home world, and two Basestars had been tasked with their world's destruction when the time was right.

Back on Cronus, Mazzax who was only so happy to display the perfection created by his people was giving members of the quorum a guided tour of the city. Minister Ravyn Nightshade, representative of the Virgon constituency was impressed with the cold granite temple of Apollo. Her long black dress stood out amongst the other delegates dressed not so strikingly. Mazzax had noticed the beauty with hair as black as his own and mesmerizing verdant eyes. He stood beside her and spoke. "Of all the gods he casts the brightest light, would you not agree?"

"I must admit that I have always been intrigued by Erebus and Hades." Replied the young woman. Mazzax could not help but notice that the pale-skinned woman before him radiated unique beauty. Her eyes were the first thing anyone who encountered her found themselves immediately drawn to.

"The dark gods?" asked Mazzax with a confused look upon his face. "For someone as fair as thyself you should bask in the glow of gods not so dour, nor dark." Nightshade merely smiled and moved along to one of the smaller statues within the temple. Elyssa DeAlma was within earshot of the conversation and quietly approached the overlord.

"She's different, your grace." Began Elyssa softly so only he could hear. "She is a child of darkness and spiritual vexation. She appreciates that which shuns the light, and embraces that which is cold and dark."

"Ah, Captain DeAlma your knowledge about the ancients, and the practiced faith of our people impresses me greatly. I have heard you called 'Poseidon' by some of your people during your stay here on Cronus, is the god of the sea close to you heart? Are you the 'Storm Bringer' for your people?"

DeAlma laughed and quickly composed herself. "Your grace, I'm a pilot, and we all are given an 'aviator call sign' or nickname in flight academy. It merely is a unique designation for transmitting purposes. Most call signs play on a reference to the pilot's surname, or it may be due to a personality trait, historical figures or past exploits of a pilot's career that may or may not be a welcome thing."

"How did you come to be blessed with the name Poseidon?" asked Mazzax. DeAlma shifted uncomfortably and was about to answer when the conversation was thankfully interrupted by the minister of Aerilon; Loki Barca, the second youngest council member at age 39. Only Minister Nightshade beat him out by 10 years.

"Overlord Mazzax, I must say I'm extremely impressed with your city, had it not been for atmospheric conditions I dare say we might have had ourselves a home." Said Barca.

"We would have been honored to have you young man. Cronus is a harsh world for those accustomed to a softer and more agreeable clime. I fear many would perish attempting to acclimate here. Records kept by our ancestors indicate many had died upon our arrival here, only the strongest survived."

"I would not be so quick to discard the internal and physical fortitude of our people, Overlord. We have endured much in these past few years traveling through the unforgiving expanse of space. We have lost many, but what have remained grew stronger than the densest Caprican oak."

"No slight intended upon your people, young minister." Assured Mazzax. He was enjoying himself amongst the long lost brothers and sisters from across the stars, and lapses in protocol were graciously overlooked. Something not normally in his nature.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19.

Adama replaced the receiver back in its cradle and looked up at his executive officer. The news was not good. The body of Marine Captain Connor Russo had been discovered on the luxury liner _Chrion, _apparent cause of death was suicide. He quietly relayed the information to Tigh who excused himself to shuttle over to the _Chrion_ to oversee the investigation himself. The Luxury liner's captain was former military, and knew well enough not to disturb the crime scene. Two private security guards were posted at the entrances to the suites and the body remained just how it was found. The death of a Colonial Marine captain meant the military, and not the civilian fleet security forces would investigate the crime.

During the time that Colonel Tigh's party was en route to the _Chrion_, supply operations had finally been completed. All shuttles had returned to their assigned ships, and the mining ships had resumed their position within the fleet. The ore would be processed immediately, and departure from Cronus was scheduled to commence in twelve hours. Adama felt as if they had spent too long there already, and did not wish to tempt fate. He would take a raptor to the palace and bid farewell in person to Mazzax, and thank him for their hospitality and badly needed supplies.

Master Chief Galen Tyrol had been first on the horn with the CIC to report that his section was all set for departure. With the exception of the CAP and Colonel Tigh's raptor, Galactica's air wing was all aboard. The chief would have loved the chance to inspect one of the wraith fighters from top to bottom, but the clock was ticking, and he knew the risks of the fleet staying in any one location for too long.

With the mystery of the wraith's stealth ability solved, he would have loved to be able to climb into one of them for a test flight. The gun camera footage from Red Aces squadron's first encounter with them was intense; they were extremely maneuverable, and quick. While not as technologically advanced as the viper, they gave them a run for their cubits. Tyrol would soon have his work cut out for him; the museum that was constructed in the starboard flight pod had been fully deconstructed with its artifacts stored elsewhere until a new home could be found for them. The landing bay was fully restored as well as the launch tubes. The hanger was redesigned to allow for a small-scale viper construction facility while still being able to house Blue and Red Aces squadrons. He would personally oversee the viper construction line. While not an aeronautical engineer, there was precious little that Galen Tyrol did not know about the Mk. II and Mk. VII vipers. He was looking forward to building new vipers, and had already discussed certain modifications with the CAG and the admiral; both were supportive of his ideas for modifications.

**Galactica Brig**

"Matthew, let me put your mind completely at ease." Said D'Anna softly into the phone. _"You are not a Cylon!"_

"My gods the dream felt so real, my consciousness flying through space only to reemerge in a new body in a tub of goo in some resurrection chamber. My copies didn't say a word, they just stood their glaring at me disapprovingly. Only the model we knew as Leobin Conoy spoke, and what he said still rings in my ears, I can't force it out."

"Leobin is a very dangerous model; he loves to mix truth with his falsehoods. I find it curious that you would encounter him in your dreams and not someone more pleasing…like me!"

"How can you be so sure that I am not one of you?" said Lensherr have joking.

"Because I never saw you at any of the Cylon office parties." Retorted D'Anna. The two laughed, but it was clear that Matt was still disturbed by the dream.

"_I'm not sure if I should be laughing or launching an investigation!"_ broke in a new voice over the receiver. Lensherr spun around to see the Admiral standing in the guard booth with a receiver to his ear; he had been monitoring the conversation. Putting down the receiver, he stepped out of the booth and motioned for the guard to exit to the outside hallway. He walked over and closed the hatch, then walked over to the door of the brig. Punching in his personal override code the door unlocked. Opening the door he gestured Lensherr to enter, he followed him in.

The room was deathly quiet for what seemed like an eternity, Adama stood in the opening of the cell and for a moment Matt had thought he was about to be locked in there with D'Anna. Adama finally spoke.

"Gods only know why I shouldn't be more skeptical about an officer having dreams that he's a Cylon, but I've got other pressing matters. There has been another murder in the fleet!"

"The Thunderbolts?" asked Lensherr.

"Unknown, what we do know is that this murder was made to look like a suicide. A Marine Captain was found dead in one of those private sex lounges on the _Chrion_." Lensherr found it strange how calmly the admiral referred to the private rooms of the luxury liner that were only mentioned in bare whispers among the seedier elements of the fleet. There was very little in Adama's fleet that he did not know about, and he figured even those rooms had their purpose in making life bearable as people lived cramped in their ships. He chose to turn a blind eye.

"Why do you think it wasn't a suicide?" asked D'Anna. Adama was clearly uncomfortable in his proximity to D'Anna. William Adama hated Cylons with every fiber of his being, spent his career fighting them, and the threat they posed to the colonies. The fact that any human, never mind one of his own officers could love one of these murdering machines was incomprehensible to him.

"Forensics teams assigned to fleet security, and our own experts aboard Galactica fully examined the body and initially concurred that the captain died by accidental electrocution. Apparently he was relaxing to a book in one of the private room's hot tubs when a lamp that he was using to read fell into the water."

"What changed things?" asked Lensherr.

"This marine was reading a popular Gemonese novel in its original text. The problem is, this marine was not Gemonese, and was known beyond any doubt to not speak or understand the language. Colonel Tigh had issued him a verbal reprimand a few weeks ago because the captain failed to seek a Gemonese interpreter to mediate a security situation that resulted in an unnecessary altercation. Upon discovering the book, Colonel Tigh became suspicious and the investigators started to expand their searches for other clues."

"Whoever killed the marine was unaware that he did not read Gemonese when they planted the book." Observed D'Anna.

"Exactly, and then toxicology reports detected a very faint trace of a drug that I had never heard of. On its own it would not be strong enough to induce death, but combined with the electrical shock it was enough."

"Is there anything connecting the marine's murder to the Thunderbolts?"

"There would not have been had it not been for your _girlfriend's_ observation to Tigh."

"Observation?" asked Lensherr looking to D'Anna, he had not known of their earlier audience.

"The executive officer met with her not long ago and discussed the Thunderbolts, and how she and her people investigated the executions of collaborators on New Caprica. She believed that the Thunderbolts might have been made up of military or security personnel from _Galactica_ or _Pegasus_. Acting on that information, the XO thoroughly searched the dead marine's private quarters and located a thunderbolt-handled blade hidden in his belongings."

"So our own security forces are the Thunderbolts?" said Lensherr angrily.

"There is no way to confirm that, but her theory makes sense. At least now, we can focus closer on the security aspect and see if things start coming together. For the time being, I want you to travel either in numbers or in very public places aboard this ship. We have no idea who else was on that list, and won't until they strike again, so I prefer to not give them easy access to the one person we know to be on their list." Replied Adama.

The three stood in the medium-sized cell quietly for a few more minutes before Adama spoke again. "Your assistance in this matter was extremely helpful and appreciated…D'Anna." Said Adama addressing her by her name for the first time. "To show my appreciation I am going to modify the conditions of your containment to allow for visitors within your cell. Outside of Captain Lensherr, I'm not sure how frequently you'll have visitors, but at least you will no longer be forced to talk through glass and a phone."

"Thank you admiral." replied D'Anna graciously.

"In time, and depending on further cooperation, we can modify the terms even more. For now I think you will find this adequate." Adama stepped out of the cell and closed the door with Lensherr within it, the guard reentered the room this time carrying a folding privacy screen that he placed before the large observation window of the cell; a parting gift from Adama.

**Starboard flight pod – launch tubes**.

Launch Supervisor (aka Shooter): "Bluejay, the viper you're replacing on CAP is on final approach, standby to launch." Lieutenant Lance "Bluejay" Morgan was a member of the Blue squadron, the man who assaulted Hephaestus in the pilot's rec room earlier. He had found himself at the top of the duty roster unexpectedly, and when one of the vipers assigned to fly CAP started to experience systems warnings, it was recalled and Bluejay was slotted to replace it.

Bluejay: "Instruments…reading green. Fuel pressure nominal."

Shooter: "Maglock secure initiate launch sequence."

After running the preliminary checks on the viper, the launch supervisor presses the lunch button, and the magnetic catapult hurls the viper down the length of the launch tube and out into space. Once clear of _Galactica_, Bluejay swung his nose around and flew directly over the top of the supply ship _Gideon _that was traveling alongside the battlestar. His partner on CAP was positioned between the _Striker_ and _Zephyr, _and that is where he needed to be.

Spotting the large ringed ship that was one of the last passenger liners ever built prior to the attacks on the colonies, Bluejay glanced down at his dradis screen to confirm its presence by its transponder. He immediately spotted the transponder for viper 1821 as well. His on-board computer screen flashed indicating that he was receiving a non-verbal message on a scrambled frequency. Puzzled by that, he used his keyboard to access the message. His eyes widened in horror as he read the brief message.

"_The Thunderbolts of Zeus have fulfilled their purpose; your services are no longer desired!" _

A five-second timer had appeared next to the message and Bluejay immediately grabbed for the canopy release handle to eject. The handle came out of the housing with ease; it had been disconnected at the base. The viper exploded in a ball of fire, Bluejay was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20.

The pitch in Gaeta's voice immediately caught Tigh's attention, two simple words brought him quickly to the tactical station; "Bluejay's gone!"

"Gone? What do you mean Lieutenant?" demanded the XO.

"Bluejay just launched as a replacement CAP and I was tracking his transponder when it disappeared after passing over the _Gideon_." The communications officer yelled out to Tigh that they were receiving an emergency transmission from the _Gideon_.

"Patch it through to tactical." Dualla handed Tigh the transmitter. "_Gideon_ this is _Galactica_ XO go ahead with your message!"

"_Galactica_ - _Gideon_, you just lost a viper in one big explosion out here. One of my technicians was watching your fighter sail over us from an observation port when it exploded!"

Tigh quickly glanced towards Gaeta and ordered him to sound action stations. He thanked the _Gideon_ for the report and switched over to the PA system.

Admiral Adama was almost to the CIC when the klaxon sounded, he quick-marched the last 150 yards, the marine guard came to attention and saluted as the admiral entered the Combat Information Center.

"What have you got XO?" asked Adama making his way over to the plotting table.

"We lost a viper shortly after it took off, according to witnesses from the _Gideon_, it sailed over the top of their ship and exploded. The ship is at condition 2 and I've scrambled the alert vipers to augment the CAP, and Raptor 1 for Search and Rescue (SAR)."

"We'll hold the rest of the wing in the tubes for the time being," said Adama. He hated losing any of his viper jocks. "Has the dradis picked up anything?"

"Negative admiral, neither have our raptors out on picket at the edges of this system. No sign of Cylons."

"Could the viper have collided with some space debris?"

"Not very likely, anything large enough to pose a problem for traffic gets taken out by artillery. The _Gideon_ was very specific; they saw an explosion, not a collision."

"We'll hold at condition 2 and await a report from the SAR team."

Matthew Lensherr sat in the cockpit of his viper _NEMESIS;_ remaining squadrons were held at the ready in the event they had to launch immediately. All he knew was that they lost a viper, and was unsure of the pilot's fate. The Landing Signals Officer (LSO) confirmed that the pilot of the doomed viper was Bluejay, the man he had an altercation with in the rec room not long ago over D'Anna. He did not like the pilot personally, and thought he was too cocky for his own good. Pride in your squadron was one thing, but the disparaging of the other three squadrons was another thing entirely, and Bluejay clearly held the belief that if you were not part of Blue squadron you were of less worth as a pilot He couldn't believe Starbuck would tolerate such an attitude in her squadron, but viper pilots were a valuable, ever-dwindling commodity, and certain negative traits were often overlooked.

His viper was ready to go at a moment's notice, and sitting in the well-worn seat of his Mk. II viper, he was at peace both physically and emotionally. The privacy screen installed in D'Anna's cell was a generous gift immediately put to use. Matt and D'Anna had made love for almost two hours before the Klaxon sounded for action stations. He could still smell her, still feel the softness of her skin, and lose himself in the green of her eyes. He knew that she was a construct, synthetic, but it did not matter to him at all. He loved her, and she loved him. He felt a strange sensation of peace fall upon him, as if he knew that in the end he and D'Anna would be okay.

Racetrack used her maneuvering thrusters to hold her position in the debris field that drifted by. She could see part of the fuselage with the beginning of the tail number of Bluejay's Mk. II viper; an ejection handle gently struck the windscreen and continued in the weightlessness of space. No sign of a body yet and Nico was already suited up and attaching a steel guideline to his harness for his spacewalk. After depressurizing the compartment, Nico opened up the hatch and stepped out onto the fuselage; magnetic boots holding him firmly to the decking.

"You all set Sleepwalker?" asked Racetrack over the comline.

"Ready!" he replied.

"Than get your ass out the door, you're letting in the cold." Junior Lieutenant Nico Stratos depressed a switch on his gauntlet and his boots demagnetized. He pushed off the fuselage in the direction of the debris field of what was left of viper number 2240, tethered to the raptor by a steel cable. The biggest piece was no larger than one meter; whatever blew the 27-foot star fighter apart was powerful. He pushed aside some of the burnt debris, searching for anything that remotely looked like it might have come from the cockpit. He felt the impact against his thigh and turned to look at what struck him. His eyes widened in horror as a burnt helmet floated up before his eyes. The explosion must have severed the head from the body; Nico was surprised to see that the head was still present within it, and unnerved to see that Bluejay's eyes were wide-open, mouth contorted in some sick display of pain and horror, as if he knew he was going to die violently.

"Oh frak, Bluejay's melon just bounced of my gods-damned leg!"

"Calm down kid!" said Racetrack curtly. "Now secure the brain bucket in your bag and look around for pieces of the cockpit. If we can recover the black box or hard drive we might be able to piece together what happened."

Placing the helmet and its cargo into the large collection bag strapped to his side, Nico moved on to what seemed like a piece of the nose. He was not a viper pilot so he was not exactly sure what he was looking at. Once he got closer, the mangled wreckage held exposed circuit boards and badly damaged instrumentation. This was exactly what he was looking for. He grabbed hold of the debris, and toggled his communicator.

"Racetrack – Sleepwalker, reel me in…I have it!" The cable snapped to life and pulled him back to the waiting raptor. Once aboard, they returned to _Galactica_ for their cargo to be inspected by forensics.

**Cronus - Six hours to fleet departure.**

Adama found Mazzax in the temple of Apollo. He looked deep in thought and he wished he did not have to disturb his peace. His gauntleted hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed as if in prayer. Bill decided to give him his peace and quietly turned around, he would come back later.

"No need to leave admiral, I was expecting you." Said Mazzax turning around. "General Xalain informs me that your fleet is fully supplied and prepared to resume its journey to Earth."

"That would be correct, overlord. I wanted to come down and personally thank you for all you and your people have done for us. You have given the people of the fleet new hope, and a change from algae-based foodstuff."

"May all the gods bless you and keep you safe on the journey, and may the strong arm of Apollo guide you to your destination."

"Thank you overlord, it's unfortunate that we cannot stay longer, there is much to learn from each other, but the Cylons are an ever-present threat and have been one step behind us since we left the colonies. I could not put your people in jeopardy."

"I must say that I will miss the company of Captain DeAlma, young 'Poseidon' is a treasure trove of knowledge in regard to our shared religion and historical events of early life on Kobol. I think she will be kept sufficiently busy with the gift I presented to her on behalf of the people of Cronus; replications of ancient Kobolian scrolls regarding the god of the sea himself; almighty Poseidon."

"I must admit my familiarity with the ancient religion is not what I would like it to be, but I do know that Poseidon was not written about in any great lengths."

"That should tell you how rare a text young Captain DeAlma has in her possession." Replied Mazzax smiling. Adama came to attention and bowed his head slightly in respect to the ruler of Cronus. Mazzax merely smiled and pulled the gauntlet off his right hand and extended it in Adama's direction. "I believe this is a fitting, and customary gesture when greeting or bidding someone farewell, is it not?"

Adama smiled, and stepped forward to reply, "Yes it is!" and grasped the extended hand. "Thank you again sir, and may the gods grant you and your people long life." Adama left the temple with his marine escort in tow. Boarding the raptor, he belted himself into the bench seat and looked out the windscreen for the final time.

Aboard the Eastern Alliance destroyer, Commandant Leiter had received word from the lead baseship that they would be jumping to a new sector that contained a unique celestial anomaly; a yellow super giant eclipsing binary. In all of his travels, he had never heard of such a thing much less seen one. Leobin, as usual, was present on the bridge. It was as if the man never slept, thought Leiter. He was feeling uneasy about the bargain they had struck with the Cylons, there was something about the older Cylon Cavil that he did not trust, and there was something about Leobin that he feared.

From the time that he was a private in the Eastern Alliance military, Leiter had a ruthless reputation. As he rose through the ranks, his reputation preceded him, and grew exponentially. By the age of 25, he had brutally killed his first human being, and soon he held the rank of commandant, and commanded his own wolf pack of destroyers. He was accustomed to being feared. Leobin clearly did not fear him, if anything he seemed amused by him and the Eastern Alliance, it was something that made Leiter very uneasy.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

**Galactica Hanger Bay – two hours to Cronus departure:**

Four hours had passed since Raptor 1 returned with the critical remains from Bluejay's viper. Master Chief Tyrol had started to download the data from the viper's black box when he made a startling discovery. Turning towards his assistant, he instructed him to not let anyone near the equipment until he returned. He soon made his way to the CIC. The wreckage revealed no explosive residue, but what he found in the hard drive was bizarre, he needed to see Adama.

The fleet had assumed their position in preparation for the jump to the next star system, and all fleet personnel had returned from the surface. Only the CAP remained, and several picket raptors at various locations within the system. Within the CIC, jump preparations are in their final stages when the communications officer relays a message that the mining ship _Monarch _had developed an FTL malfunction that would require an undetermined amount of time to inspect and repair.

"Damn," grunted Adama. "This is just what we need! All right, inform the captain of the _Monarch_ to keep us informed as to their progress, inform the fleet that the jump is on hold." Ordered Adama. The admiral glanced around the room looking for his yeoman who promptly came to attention when he caught Adama's glance. "Coffee please, black!" snapped the admiral removing his glasses to wipe one of the lenses. To an outsider, his tone would seem rude and imperiousness, but to those who served under William Adama, they knew he loved every one of the men and women under his command; it was just how he spoke, short and to the point. The yeomen scurried off to procure the steaming hot beverage that could be found in a makeshift coffee station up in the core.

Chief Tyrol was soon at the side of the plotting table; Adama was surprised to see him. "What brings you up from the pods, chief?"

"I think I found an irregularity in the hard drive that we salvaged from Bluejay's viper."

"Irregularity? Explosive residue?" asked Adama giving him his full attention.

"No sir, no residue detected on any of the fragments, or on Bluejay's remains. What we found was on the hard drive, it's pretty well maintained for such a violent explosion." Replied the chief. "All systems were in the green immediately after take off, within a minute Bluejay received an encrypted wireless message. Immediately following the wireless message there was a massive spike in the tylium injection package, and then the explosion." Adama walked over to the communications station.

"Dee, you were on duty when Bluejay's viper exploded were you not?" The young female officer responded in the affirmative. "Did you send an encrypted message to Bluejay immediately after take off?"

"Negative sir," she then punched up a series of commands on her computer and reviewed the information provided. "Nor were there any outgoing transmissions from _Galactica_, encrypted or otherwise."

"Chief can you retrieve that message?"

"Far above my pay grade Admiral, you're going to need someone like Dualla to dig that out." Replied Tyrol.

"Good work chief; I'm going to detail Dualla over to your section to work on retrieving that message…give her whatever she needs."

"Aye sir!"

**Galactica CIC**

"Ah Madam President, glad you could make it."

"Good evening Admiral."

"It looks like we're going to be remaining in orbit for another day at least. The _Monarch's_ FTL drive is in need of some repairs that will be time-consuming. Her maintenance teams are acquiring the necessary components from her sister ship, and once repairs are complete and function tests conducted we can leave this system. I have already alerted General Xalain of the situation, and he advised Mazzax."

"Anything serious to their FTL's?"

"Well as you're well aware, the slightest miscalculation, or component out of place can either disable the drive, or jump your ship into the wrong coordinates, maybe even straight into a sun. I told the repair crew to take their time and get it right. In the meantime we have a situation."

"Yes?"

"This is a military matter so I will request your cooperation in keeping this matter to yourself for the time being. Two officers assigned to _Galactica_ have been murdered. A Marine and one of our pilots; both made to look like accidents."

"_Look like accidents_, you mean they were not?"

"Forensics teams positively concluded the Marine was killed by an overdose of a rare drug that is very difficult to detect unless looking for specific compounds. The crime was made to look like an accidental electrocution while reading in a hot tub."

"How did the pilot die?"

"Initial investigation of the flight recorder revealed a massive spike in the tylium injection system that 'may' have caused an explosion. Difficult to tell because of the amount of complete destruction, we do know that no outside explosive elements were used however."

"What little I know about vipers, I do know what malfunctioning fuel feeds can do to a ship of any size, much less a complex system such as a viper." Said Roslin.

"The problem is that the pilot received an encrypted wireless message moments before the explosion. I've personally checked the records, no such message was sent from _Galactica_."

"Sounds like you have a mystery on your hands, admiral."

"No Madam President, I have two murders on my hands to deal with. Searches of the personal possessions of the deceased revealed daggers with thunderbolt shaped hilts."

"The Thunderbolts of Zeus, they were part of that band of assassins?"

"It looks that way.

The two marines were cleaning their weapons; they had spent the last hour in the firing range and were ready to call it a night. Small arms ammunition were in short supply, so time in the range was kept to an hour with carefully rationed rounds provided to the Marines. The conversation had been kept to the confines of a new transfer of a rather buxom nurse to _Galactica_ from one of the civilian ships. Soon it turned to a topic one of them was trying to avoid. The death of their Marine captain on the _Chrion_, and now Bluejay.

"There is no way the two deaths can't be connected!" stated one of the Marines. "Somebody has found us out!"

"Would you shut the frak up?" replied his friend irritably. "What is with you, are you trying to get caught? The less that is said, even between the two of us minimizes the chances of a slip. The old man would flush us out an airlock for what we took part in aboard his ship." He was getting slightly light headed, and feeling warm. The environmental controls must be off he thought, thank the gods their hour of practice was over and he could get out of this stuffy range.

He was surprised to see his friend whirl around drawing his weapon at him while wearing a stupid looking grin. He instinctively went to use a forearm block to knock the weapon aside but all he caught was dead air, missing the weapon completely. "What the frak?"

"Still gots the fastest draw in the fleet!" blurted out the Marine holstering his weapon clumsily. He was giddy, and broke out into coarse laughter.

"You fraking idiot, stop fooling around before there is an accident." He replied, the surprise must have given him a head rush, he felt like he would pass out. His friend lost his own balance as if drunk and dropped to one knee still laughing. Something was wrong, his friend was acting like an idiot, and he could barely gather his own thought.

"We're losing oxygen!" he exclaimed while making his way to the control panel to check the gauges. He was correct, the indicator showed that nearly all of the oxygen in the room was depleted, and carbon dioxide levels dangerously high. Stumbling over to the hatch he attempted to throw open the door with no success. His friend had dropped to the ground unconscious, and he realized he would soon join him if he didn't act fast. He drew his weapon to shoot out the observation window from the range master's booth above them only to discover that he no longer possessed any rounds, nor did his friend. They used up their entire training allotment. He vaguely recalled his face striking the deck as he finally lost his strength to remain standing. Both Colonial Marines, two assassins for the Thunderbolts of Zeus lay dead on the deck, justice had been served.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22.

The bodies of the two marines were quickly found after a short search when they failed to report for their assigned duties. Initial investigation reveals that the environmental controls had been tampered with. Like the mysterious deaths before them, Adama ordered their personal belongings to be searched. As anticipated, two lightning bolt-hilted daggers were discovered.

Colonel Tigh had joined Adama in the admiral's private quarters to discuss the affair. Bill had poured himself a snifter of brandy, and offered his XO one, which was politely declined. He then took his seat behind the desk. "Look Saul, this felgercarb is getting out of hand. Obviously someone is cleaning up their mess."

"The first rule of assassination…kill the assassins!" offered Tigh.

"Who the frak is behind this? As much as I cannot abide those that collaborated with the Cylons on New Caprica, what is done is done! The President pardoned damn near everyone for everything once she retook office. Not something I would normally agree to, but she made her case for the need to wipe the slate clean in order for the fleet to not tear itself between those who collaborated, those who did not, and those who chose to remain with the fleet instead of going down to the surface. We need to end this before we have fleet-wide panic."

"We don't even know how many are involved with the Thunderbolts." Replied Tigh. The buzzer sounded, and Bill picked up his phone. "Who wants to see me?" Bill had a quizzical look across his face. "Alright, send him in!" The hatch to Adama's private quarters was opened by the Marine guard outside it; in stepped a tall thin pilot from Blue squadron. Adama recognized him as Lieutenant Paul "Cadaver" Raymond. He looked ashen, worse than what he normally looked like; which was why he earned the call sign Cadaver.

"Good evening lieutenant, the sentry informs me that you have something to discuss of vital importance. What can I do for you?"

"Admiral, colonel…I don't know where to begin, but I figure the only thing I can do is just spit it out!" said Cadaver.

"That would be a wise idea, lieutenant…the colonel and I are very busy. Please spit it the frak out already!"

"Admiral…" he paused uncomfortably. "I am a Thunderbolt, and I'm the only surviving one." The words were like a thunderclap, and Tigh and Adama exchanged surprised glances. Cadaver slowly reached behind his back, under his utility jacket and produced evidence of his claim. A long dagger with a lightning bolt-shaped hilt. He placed it on the desk before the two senior most officers, sealing his fate.

"You've been a busy man, lieutenant. Four murders aboard my ship, not to mention the killing of collaborators on New Caprica.

"No admiral! I didn't murder the rest of the Thunderbolts, I came to you because I don't want to end up like them."

"Who leads the Thunderbolts?" inquired Tigh.

"Captain Russo was our team leader, but he answered to someone else, I have strong suspicions as to who. I do know that this person is someone not to be fraked with." He felt like they did not believe him, so he continued. "On New Caprica we were given a green light to eliminate the traitors who climbed in bed with the occupation forces. Our main targets were members of the New Caprica Police, soon it extended to anyone who collaborated. Once we escaped New Caprica and rejoined the fleet, Captain Russo contacted the team members to finish our task."

"Lieutenant, you've killed people on my ship, killed your fellow human beings even after they were all pardoned by President Roslin for their past crimes and indiscretions. You've tarnished the uniform you wear!"

"I can't disagree with you sir, and I will except any punishment you deem necessary to dispense." replied Cadaver. "The Thunderbolts were a highly trained team that fell easily one by one, I have no desire to end up like them." Tigh stood up and brought himself up close to the man before them.

"Lieutenant Paul Raymond you are hereby placed under arrest pending charges, you will be remanded to Galactica's brig..._GUARDS_!" The two Marines quickly entered Adama's private quarters and were instructed to take the lone surviving Thunderbolt into custody. After placing Raymond into flexible handcuffs they removed him to the brig.

Tigh and Adama stood staring at each other for a few moments in silence, Adama was first to speak. "Well that was unexpected." noted Bill dryly. "What do we do with him, Saul?" An arched eyebrow was his reply. Tigh noted the undertones of the question, to him the man would have to be punished. What made it difficult was that the accused was a viper pilot, a good one. _Galactica_ was nowhere near full strength since the attack on the Colonies, and every trained pilot, especially a viper pilot was as precious as ones own life blood to the fleet.

"He must face punishment Bill, he took part in killing civilians on New Caprica, and then committed more murders after the presidential pardon."

"I know...I know, we'll have to get Apollo down here and explain the situation. Gods only know the CAG won't like losing a pilot. Alright, check on the status of the _Monarch_ and see if they're ready to jump. We've stayed at Cronus too long, let's make way." ordered Adama. Before Tigh could turn to leave, the direct line from the CIC rang. Picking up the phone Adama answered.

"_Admiral, the technicians were able to retrieve the complete scrambled transmission from Bluejay's flight recorder. They couldn't break the encryption, but they were able to identify the source of the transmission."_ informed Dualla. Adama shot up his hand to Tigh motioning him to stand by. The conversation lasted another 30 seconds and Bill hung up abruptly.

"You are not going to fraking believe this!" said Bill. The executive officer sat back down, and Adama poured him a glass of brandy which again, was now readily accepted.

The sun was just rising over the mountain range, the light shined through the floor-to -ceiling window, bathing their bodies. Matthew Lensherr slept soundly and she did not wish to disturb him. Slipping off the silk sheets. D'Anna walked naked out onto the patio basking in the glow of the morning sun. She felt wonderful, and for the first time since her incarceration by the Colonials felt at peace. She could already feel the life growing within her body, the seed of her lover, Matthew Lensherr. This would be the second hybrid child between human and Cylon. She had told Matthew the news last night, and he was ecstatic, not wishing to leave her side. The Admiral had seen to it that Lensherr had unrestricted access to her, and had spent the last few nights sleeping with her. Another bed was brought in and bolted to hers to make it comfortable for two occupants. She wished he could see this sunrise, but the gift of "projection" resided only in Cylons.

She continued her morning meditation and awaited her lover to wake on his own. She longed for the day that they could both enjoy such a sunrise together on Earth, or any other habitable planet.

In the CIC, Lt. Gaeta was monitoring the flight of the vice president's raptor on final approach to _Galactica's_ number two landing bay. It was decided to detail a raptor to Colonial One to ferry the president back and forth instead of having the 84.5 meter craft traveling in and out of _Galactica's_ flight pod, minimizing any risk of accidents.

"Admiral, the vice president's raptor has landed." informed Dualla.

"Very well, would you please have the vice president escorted to my quarters." He beckoned Tigh to follow him. "Mr. Gaeta, you have the conn."

All three men sat around the desk in Adama's office, Zarek downed the contents of his brandy snifter, and barely hid his disappointment at the quality of the admiral's brandy. He normally received his liquor from a source aboard the _Prometheus_, a known black market haven.

"This is distressing news Admiral, one I would suggest dealt with severely. Where is this pilot now?" asked Zarek putting his snifter down on the high-glossed desk before him. "Also, I am curious as to why the president herself isn't here.

"He's being held in the brig, says he knows who the actual leader of the Thunderbolts is, but hasn't revealed anything. I have my doubts, I think he's playing for time. The president has indicated she is...unavailable at this time, and suggested you take her place at this meeting." Zarek's eyebrow raised slightly at Adama's reply. "Would you care to observe the interrogation, Mr. vice president?"

"I would Admiral, thank you very much. When shall we begin?"

"Immediately after we depart Cronus, I've received confirmation that the _Monarch's_ FTL drive has been repaired and we'll be leaving within two hours."

"Excellent! If you don't mind I will remain on board through the jump."

"Of course Mr. Vice President, I'll see to it that Dualla informs the captain of _Colonial One_ and your raptor pilot." The meeting ended and Zarek exited the room.

The brig aboard _Galactica_ consisted of three large connected cabins. The cell that contained the Cylon prisoner was the largest, usually meant to contain large numbers. The other two cabins consisted of individual cells, six per cabin. Lensherr was still asleep in D'Anna's cell when Lt. Raymond was brought in. The door slammed shut to the cell and the guard stepped into the small room reserved for the marine guards that supervised all three cabins via closed circuit camera. The two Marines spoke briefly and one soon exited. An hour had passed and the remaining Marine had picked up the receiver once it started ringing. He listened intently then acknowledged whomever was on the other end and immediately hung up. He picked up his weapon and exited the cell block which was highly unusual.

The second means of egress into the cell block had opened quietly, the lights were dimmed in that section due to there not being anyone in that block of cells. The footsteps were quiet as the soft gel soles made their way across the floor. The new arrival slowly made their way to the corner where the guard shack was located. He punched in commands on the surveillance keyboard and the monitor switched from cells to the outside corridor leading into the restricted area housing the brig. The departing marine can be seen leaving the area and stepping through the far hatch. Black gloved hands reached into the waistband of the pants being worn and pulled out a regulation Colonial sidearm. Reaching into a pocket in the jacket, a silencer was retrieved and quickly attached to the barrel of the weapon.

He would have to act quickly, the guard would be away two minutes at most before realizing that something was seriously wrong. Switching off the recording device to the cell in question he exited the guard shack and walked into the cabin. He stopped at cell number three, the occupant stood with his back turned, but realized very quickly he was no longer alone, or safe. Turning around he stood face to face with the man he knew right away was the mystery man behind the Thunderbolts of Zeus.

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"You are the last of what was a terrible mistake to begin with. I take no pleasure in this, but none of you would listen to reason, this has to end now." replied the man in the shadow. He raised the silenced weapon and placed the red laser sight directly between the man's eyes. The flashing of light did not come from the muzzle of the barrel, but from the overhead lights.

"_Drop your weapon, now!" _The voice filled the cabin like a thunderclap, the mystery man spun around slowly to face an armed Admiral Adama, the Marine sentry he had tricked into abandoning his watch with falsified orders from the CIC at his side with his own rifle trained on him as well.

"I'm willing to wager this really doesn't look good." deadpanned the mystery man.

"_No Mister Vice President, it surely does not!_" replied Adama angrily.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23.

The arrest of Vice President Tom Zarek was immediate and kept secret for the time being. When the flight recorder from Bluejay's viper was dissected by the technicians, they were able to trace the signal back to an old portable short range transmitter assigned to _Colonial One_. Adama had never suspected the former terrorist turned vice president, but it was something that Raymond had said in his quarters, that the mystery man was someone not to be fraked with. Immediately after Tigh left his quarters he ordered the flight logs for the _Chrion_ on the day of Marine Captain Russo's murder. On a whim he looked at the names on the manifest, and it was there that he saw it. The number of flights compared to names was off by one; an impossibility. There were no off the books flights in William Adama's fleet. Every single flight between ships were logged with the names of passengers and point of origin. Yet there had been a flight that landed on the _Chrion_ on the day of the murder and officially there was no record of it. Besides the admiral of the fleet there was only two other person capable of sidestepping regulations.

The meeting with the President lasted less than thirty minutes and both had agreed that the announcement would not be made public for awhile longer. She walked with her Marine escort to the cell block where she met with her former vice president who sat relaxed on the cot within.

"Ah Laura, as the night gets later the guests get lovelier." said Zarek.

"What the frak were you thinking, Tom? You authorized the killing of innocent civilians on New Caprica, then killed your own dogs of war!"

"First off," began Zarek, "if you recall, I was immediately thrown in prison after the Cylons landed on New Caprica, because I wouldn't go along with Baltar. Thankfully I was able to keep in contact with certain individuals who agreed with my views on collaboration with the enemy. Those who were killed on New Caprica weren't innocent, they were collaborators. Then, after you issued a blanket pardon to all citizens of New Caprica, regardless of their crimes upon assuming the presidency, the need for my team was put to an end. The Thunderbolts of Zeus reconstituted themselves without my authorization, they attempted to kill Lensherr because of his relationship with D'Anna Biers for frak's sake. After that I had to do something!"

"You could have came to me, and with the help of the quorum we could have handled it."

"The Quorum?" Zarek hissed. "Do you actually believe that those intellectual voids masquerading as representatives mean anything? Not one of them would have been elected to the quorum on any of the planets they now represent prior to the Cylon attack on the colonies. _WE_ are the glue that holds that second rate debate club together. What have they ever accomplished?"

"After deliberating with military leadership I must inform you that as of this moment you are no longer the elected Vice President of the Colonies. You have been stripped of your responsibilities, and a formal hearing will ensue in ten days to officially remove you from office. I do this in accordance with the Articles of Colonization.

"It took _that_ long for Adama to arrange my removal? Laura, the man has no use for civilian leadership, perhaps in another era, but not now, not when we're running for our lives. Without my support, my many contacts throughout the fleet, your presidency will be a sham, and his will be the only word, trust me on that."

A sorrowful look descended upon Laura as she took a step back from the bars of the cell. She had liked, or trusted Tom Zarek. It wasn't until he saved her life on New Caprica, moments before they were set to be executed by Cylon centurions. His lightning fast wit could always put you at ease, his smile was one to be found on a model,and his charm was so contagious that vaccines had been created for it.

Now? She had no idea who the man was that stared back into her eyes. Scheming authoritarian who had successfully steered the Quorum delegates into rubber-stamping their approval on almost every one of her agendas with nearly never raising fears that the executive branch was becoming a totalitarian institution, or cold-blooded killer. When Adama ran through the evidence from the deaths of the Thunderbolts, Zarek's presence could always be linked; but never in an easy way. He covered his tracks almost to perfection, almost.

"Goodbye Mr. Zarek, the fleet jumps away from Cronus within the hour. I need to get back to _Colonial One_ and hold an executive quorum session. Your treason will be addressed in ten days."

Cavil's command Basestar held its position while the other Basestar and the wolf pack of Eastern Alliance destroyers formed up for the jump. In the command and control center there was a beehive of controlled activity. A Leobin and Boomer model Cylon had their hands on the illuminated panel covered by a thin layer of water, the liquid serving as both display and input device as a Cylon interfaces the data stream.

"Our scout raider has the exact coordinates." informed Boomer. "They are in orbit of a small planet, tight formation as if they were preparing to jump."

"Well let us get this act of final annihilation started shall we?" announced Cavil. "Please ask the Hybrid to jump us to the prescribed coordinates." Leobin nodded and his right hand slid silently across the data stream. Within nanoseconds the request was transmitted to the Hybrid who controlled the massive Cylon warship, and then they all vanished in a faster-than-light jump.

_"Action stations, action stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill."_ Matt could hear the tension in Gaeta's voice as he called for action stations throughout the ship. "_All pilots to your vipers, incoming Cylon forces...this is not a drill!"_

**Galactica CIC – thirty seconds after action stations had sounded.**

Adama was descending the stairs from the core onto the main command deck as Tigh just finished giving the command for the civilian fleet to jump to the preset coordinates for the next system.

"Sit rep!" barked Adama taking his place at the plotting table. He looked up at the Dradis screen that had lowered itself from the ceiling. Two Basestars and two dozen smaller ships were bearing down on their position.

"Enemy Baseships bearing 279 carom 772, they're coming in fast and they're launching their raiders...their entire compliment!" A Cylon Basestar's raider compliment numbered over 800. There was almost 1600 raiders being launched from the two Basestars, _Galactica's_ air wing didn't stand a chance.

"Launch everything we've got, I want armed raptors out there as well. If we got vipers pulled apart for repairs tell Tyrol to move his ass and get em back together and out the fraking tubes." ordered Adama. "Helm, bring us about 180 degrees starboard, I want us positioned to launch a full salvo from every point defense turret and cannon we've got."

"We had better warn Cronus that the Cylons have arrived, if they have an evacuation plan they will need every second we can give them." suggested Tigh.

"I concur X.O." replied Adama. He turned towards the communications officer. "Dee, send a message to General Xalain, advise him of the situation immediately. Also, I want our armed civilian ships brought alongside _Galactica_, we need to set up a wall of flak between the fleet and the incoming Cylons." Tigh gave the Admiral a surprised look. "They're getting bumped up to the front lines Saul, I have no choice, the fleet will be safe once they all jump."

Captain Elyssa "Poseidon" DeAlma brought her Raptor into position and armed her missile launchers as her ECO glanced down at the wall of enemy fighters bearing down upon them on his dradis screen.

"We've got a never ending wall of toasters coming are way Poseidon!" informed Hustler.

"This is fraking insane, I have never been this badly outnumbered before." whispered Elyssa to nobody in particular. Off her port side she could see Athena deploy the articulating arms that contained a vast array of weapons on her modified Raptor. The Raptors were the last line of defense before the _Galactica_. Each Raptor was armed with 30 air-to-air missiles; each warhead specifically designed to discharge lethal amounts of smaller explosives in a web-like pattern. One missile could realistically take out four to six raiders if they were traveling in close formation. With the solid wall of raiders bearing down on them the combined missiles from all the raptors could inflict devastating damage on the Cylons, yet still fall far short of cutting down their numbers.

The remaining vipers from _Galactica_ streaked by the Raptor line of defense; all fighters were now airborne and in play. Only six vipers remained on board, all of them too battle damaged or in need of serious repair as to leave them unserviceable, even in this hour of need.

Gaeta reported that all birds were away, and that the ship was ready for combat.

"Mr. Gaeta, can you identify those smaller contacts? They're too big to be heavy raiders, and far too small to be Basestars."

"Negative admiral, too far away for a visual scan, and they are not broadcasting Cylon IFF's."

Looking at the killer force about to engage his meager defenses, Adama inquired about the fleet status. Too many ships were still left to jump, they would have to slug it out and pray they could recover the air wing, or what would be left of them in time. His thoughts turned towards the people of Cronus. He couldn't just leave them at the mercy of the Cylons, he would have to do battle with the Cylon's capital ships.

At the spearhead of the Colonial forces, Major Lee "Apollo" Adama was leading the defenses. Starbuck and the Blue squadron was on his six, they were the tip of the spear.

"Apollo – Starbuck...that is one mother-fraking load of toasters coming our way!"

"Can the chatter Starbuck! We're in the felgercarb and I need you all to be on your game. There's so many of them you can't miss, let's concentrate on blasting a hole right through them, and hope they don't swallow us up." said Apollo. All of his years as a viper pilot and CAG never had he seen such an overwhelming force of Cylons.

"Apollo to all vipers..._commence firing!_"


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24.

The cannon fire was thick and brutal; twin MEC-A6 30mm Thraxon forward-firing kinetic energy weapons from both Mk. II and Mk. VII model vipers cut loose with an unholy fury, destroying everything in their path. Ghostrider and Vixon flew wingtip to wingtip and blew a deep corridor down the center of the Cylon assault, leaving disabled and destroyed Raiders in their wake.

"Apollo - Odysseus...they aren't engaging us!"

"Chances are those bio mechanical fraks are programed to ignore us and go after the fleet, keep hitting them hard Odysseus, take out as many of them as you can!" ordered the CAG over the open frequency. Major Adama was seriously concerned about the numbers before him, while he may have sounded like the most confident man in the universe, the opposite was true at that moment. His beloved air wing was hopelessly outnumbered, and should have been cut to pieces by the onslaught before them. Being the CAG he had to keep his bearing and wits upon him. The men and women flying behind him and to the sides of him demanded nothing less.

Captain Jon "Peacemaker" Horlach spearheaded his Red Aces squadron into the thick of the swarm. Ares and Rogue were merciless in their wrath; Lt. Tari "Ares" Adams split a raider down the center and used her own viper to finish the job her 30 mm rounds started. Blood and circuitry splattered across her canopy, giving Tari a sense of pride; a maniacal grin plastered across her face.

""Ares – Peacemaker...quite the set you have there lady, good kill! Keep close to your wing man, we need to keep a tight formation if we're going to inflict serious damage here."

"Serious damage is what I'm all about skipper!" replied Ares splashing another raider. Lt. Warren "Eagle One" Rucks barely avoided the larger debris from the Raider that he was responsible for destroying, the 'head' of the raider clipping his port wing.

"Mother fraker!" cursed Rucks over the comline. He righted his viper, and the on board computer revealed minor damage.

**Galactica CIC.**

"Colonel Tigh, what's the fleet status? asked Adama. The dradis screen revealed the advanced raider force was closing to killer range. The Basestars would soon be within effective firing range.

"We're down to six, Admiral, the _Virgon Express _reports FTL failure and is initiating restart." replied the executive officer.

"Frak! We need to get these civilian ships out of here. Has there been any word from Cronus?"

"Negative sir, all hails to the surface have gone unanswered."

"Are you serious? They're a sitting duck down there." replied Adama in disbelief.

Nina Nintius gripped the controls of her Raptor tightly, this was going to be a rout if they couldn't get the fleet to safety. The enemy force bearing down on them was overwhelming, and even if the fleet was able to escape the chances of recovering the entire air wing was doubtful, even with combat landings. Her ECO for this hop was Sleepwalker, and he was working his console feverishly.

"Betty, I have a lock on the Basestars and smaller vessels, you actually have the unidentified ships in Taz's memory banks." said Niko.

"What? Who the frak are they?" said Nina whipping her head around towards the rear of the cabin.

"On board War book identifies as Eastern Alliance Destroyers."

"_You're fraking kidding me!_ The Eastern Alliance and the Cylons?" "Get on the horn to the _Galactica_, let em know who we're dealing with."

Hephaestus was coming into range of the first wave of the raiders. Silver Spar squadron was the last squadron out of the tubes and he armed his wingtip missiles. Receiving good tone for a lock he fired off two Spectra Six air to air missiles. The twin red colored missiles streaked forward and detonated thirty meters before the first raider, creating an intricate web of high explosives spreading across a radius of 100 meters. The devastation was impressive, sixty two raiders were left destroyed or utterly disabled in the first contact.

Matthew Lensherr was pleased with the results, and depressed the thruster pedal a little further picking up speed, expertly dodging the remaining debris. Lt. Gwynn "Stingray" St. Clair and Lt. Issa "Eos" Nimoy followed close in his wake, picking off the raiders that emerged in their predecessor's wake only to fall victim to the lethal ladies 30 mm cannons.

Silver Spar's assistant squadron leader Steve "Photon" Parsec obliterated a trio of raiders, amazed at the lack of return fire from the Cylons. The Colonial's luck soon came to an end; Mustang and Emissary found themselves under a blistering assault from a handful of raiders. Emissary was dead before she even knew what hit her while Mustang's canopy was blown apart, if not for her restraining harness, the violent decompression would have thrown her clear of the star fighter that was rapidly being shred to metallic pieces around her. The sinister looking raider was the last thing she would ever see as it plowed into her at full speed. The impact immediately liquified her once muscular body.

The raiders came alive, Cavil had planned to lure the meager defensive forces into a false sense of security. He had raiders to spare and spare them he did, now was the time for the end, to finally wipe out the pestilence know as humanity once and for all.

The Cylons closed in on the vipers who soon found themselves on the defensive. Seven vipers were destroyed within minutes. The human pilot of a Colonial viper had long been more than a match for any three or four raiders, but the numbers against them were just too insurmountable.

"Apollo – Falcon, we're getting fraking killed out here. The fleet has to be safely away by now, what the frak is the hold up?" Tony "Falcon" Bastain usually kept his cool in the cockpit, but now things were getting critical, they were almost to the point of a zero percent recovery.

Aboard _Galactica_, the final civilian ship had safely jumped away. _Galactica_ and her armed civilian ships were firing their heavy guns toward the incoming Cylon capital ships and the smaller ships now confirmed as Eastern Alliance Destroyers. Fellow humans assisting in their destruction. Adama realized that recovery of the vipers was an almost non-existent endeavor. His near indomitable spirit was reaching a breaking point when the battle took a different turn.

Incoming Cylon raiders were exploding across the battlefield as surprised Colonial pilots received the break they all were desperately praying for. Wraith fighters from Cronus in all their invisible glory arrived at the proverbial last minute. What seemed like hundreds, if not thousands of the black fighters blotted out the stars, killing every Cylon Raider in their sights. Neither Cylon or Colonial detected their approach, and it wasn't until they came into visual range of the vipers were they identified.

"_Galactica_ – Apollo...Cronus Wraiths have arrived, they're taking it to the toasters like fraking madmen." The voice of Lee Adama boomed across the CIC and a cry of excitement roared throughout the Battlestar's command center. A chance; Mazzax's forces came through when they truly needed it.

"Helm...bring us in close and personal to the lead Basestar, I want dorsal gun batteries two through eight brought to bear on the center axis." ordered Adama with a renewed sense of vigor and confidence.

"What about the remaining civilian ships?" inquired Tigh.

"Frak it, they've held their own up until now, let's see what those ship captains can really do, just tell them to keep their FTL's spooled up to jump away if things get too hairy." replied Adama smiling.

The addition of the Wraith fighters had evened the playing field and injected William Adama with a high degree of relief. The thought of _Galactica_ jumping away to safety as the Cylons descended upon Cronus was unthinkable. In the end, he would have sent away the armed civilian ships to protect the fleet and stayed against all odds to defend Cronus as best he could. He was now directing his fury towards the Basestars, but special attention would be given to the traitorous humans from the Eastern Alliance who were standing shoulder to shoulder with the Cylons against their own. His encounter with the Eastern Alliance awhile ago had left two of his best pilots emotionally, psychologically and physically scarred.

"Communications officer, get Betty on the horn, tell her she's free to engage the Eastern Alliance destroyers, tell her to tear em up!" ordered Adama.

This had been what Nina had waited for since Niko first informed her the identity of the smaller ships in the Cylon attack force. She formed up with Raptor 2 and engaged the lead destroyer whom she knew would be Leiter's. She was surprised to see the defensive batteries open up as she approached, apparently the Cylons gave them some upgrades. Fingering the weapons trigger on the control stick she let loose a missile towards the target. She was amazed to see the triple-A fire tack it out. Obvious upgrades.

Matthew Lensherr caught the sight of Nina's raptor engaging the destroyer, and the disappointing results. He toggled the transmitter button on his joystick and called out to Orion and Lancelot to form up on him. Flipping end over end he altered course and made a strafing run on the Cylon-made point defense turrets. His first pass struck a glancing blow on the turret housing, Orion and Lancelot followed suit and inflicted heavy damage.

Aboard the command destroyer, Leiter was incensed at the change of events. He had been hoping to prove the Eastern Alliance a worthy partner to his mechanical benefactors. Leobin was monitoring the situation, and Leiter's response to the eb and flow of the attack. He was amused by this human, he thought they could very possibly make a satisfactory military ally if not for one major flaw...they were all human.

_Galactica_ shuddered under the missile impact from Cavil's command ship. Toe to toe, a Colonial Battlestar could take serious punishment from the more technologically advanced Cylon warship. The Cylon capital ships were not well armored, nor laden with point defense batteries. They depended on their raider compliment to defend them, unfortunately at this moment the entire raider compliment from two Basestars were busy elsewhere. The armed Colonial civilian ships spread out and were doing a good job at holding their own, but the raiders gave them half-hearted attention, the real prize was the Battlestar; _Galactica_ had to be taken out at all costs.

**Galactica CIC.**

"Admiral, we're receiving a message from Cronus on frequency beta." informed the com officer. Beta channel was the frequency assigned to be used between Cronus and the fleet.

"Put it on the speaker, ensign."

The voice of General Xalain filled the room. "Admiral I trust our Wraiths have leveled the playing field some?"

"Yes it has General, thank you very much...it wasn't looking too good there for a moment." replied Bill.

"Be advised, I am currently aboard one of the few warships Cronus has at her disposal. At this moment we are breaking free of orbit and will be taking up position alongside the _Galactica_. I would kindly request your fighters to hold their fire...we're friendly!" said Xalain with almost a trace of humor.

"General your ship is not being picked up by our Dradis, nor by the Cylon's I'm willing to wager. My com officer will be sending you a coded package to download into your navigation system which will allow Colonial forces to identify you as a friendly. Prepare to receive." Adama nodded to the com officer who quickly assigned a colonial IFF to Xalain's ship.

Starbuck was starting to run low on both fuel and ammunition, the knuckle-draggers would have to add another nose to her viper just to document the number of raider kills she had. It was almost too easy, the addition of the Wraiths had turned an impossible situation into a realistic fighting chance. The only fear would be running into one of the wraiths due to their being invisible to dradis. Fortunately the wraiths had no problems telling Colonial from Cylon craft.

"Apollo – Starbuck, starting to run low on the necessities."

"Alright, those of you in need of fuel and ammo fall back to the _Galactica_ and get back into the fight asap." Apollo was starting to run low himself, but hated the idea of pulling out of the fight if any of his pilots were still out there. Fortunately the deck gang would be on the deck of the landing bay in magnetic shoes to quickly rearm the landing viper. Fueling trucks equipped with magnetic treads would roll up and dispense the much needed tylium without ever having to drop the viper down into the hanger bay. Not a preferred practice due to the danger involved in an open flight pod during battle, but there was not many options.

Lucky and Gambler were the first two vipers from Blue squadron to touch down on the port flight pod to be refueled and rearmed. _Galactica's_ point defense turrets that encircled the openings at both ends of each flight pod worked overtime to keep raiders away while refueling operations took place.

Nina had made several passes at the destroyer, somewhat hoping that Leiter would recognize her. She knew that was completely illogical, Taz had been completely remodified and bore little resemblance to the Raptor she flew when captured by the Eastern Alliance so long ago. Had she known the communications frequency the destroyer operated on she would be sorely tempted to send out a hearty 'frak you, I'm back!' to Commandant Leiter. She had the opportunity to splash several raiders and with the help of Poseidon was able to take down one of the wolf pack, resulting in a spectacular explosion.

The three warships from Cronus were larger than an Eastern Alliance destroyer, but far smaller than a Battlestar. Large triple-barreled 12 inch guns opened fire on the closest destroyer, obliterating it in a lethal barrage.

With the identification of Eastern Alliance forces on the battlefield, Matthew Lensherr doubled back towards Nina's position, he knew that she would have one objective; to find Leiter and kill him. With an important assault such as this there was no way that the sadistic commandant that tortured her was going to be sitting out the attack from a position of safety. The lead destroyer was filling the skies with triple-A fire, and despite her best attempts to evade it, Nina's beloved Taz plowed right into a thick wall of it, penetrating the hull. Sleepwalker scanned the damage control station, the damage was significant, under lesser circumstances, a raptor pilot with this amount of battle damage would fall back, but Nina was like a woman possessed. She was _not_ going to fall back, no matter what the damage.

"Betty – Hephaestus, on your port side coming in high, clear the fraking area...now!"

Nina smiled and hit her maneuvering thrusters and barely evaded the aging Mk. II viper that streaked past her on full battle thrusters. Hephaestus fired off a long burst of cannon fire, walking the rounds across one of the enhanced point defense turrets no doubt provided by the Cylons. The weapon erupted in a fireball that quickly dissipated in the vacuum of space, but the damage done to the hull of the command destroyer blew open several bulkheads, lifeless Eastern Alliance personnel were swept out into the icy cold grip of space.

On the bridge of the command destroyer, Leiter was incensed at the damage being done to his ship. Leobin who stood by his side merely smiled, then spoke. "What is worse, is that a viper that is archaic even by their own standards, is inflicting damage that goes unanswered, as if you were all just old women. I suppose you should pray to your gods that you aren't facing their more advanced viper, the Mk. VII." Leobin's eyes burned through the distance between himself and Leiter, and it seemed that his smile had done more damage than his words.

"_Old women_?" sneered Leiter. "We shall see about that! _Helm..._bring us about, I want some maneuvering distance between us and that viper." ordered Leiter. The lead destroyer broke ranks and cruised to an area less congested. Hephaestus repeatedly strafed Leiter's ship until his on board computer sounded a warning that he was approaching his last 100 rounds.

Nina had been watching the fight and was starting to grow concerned, the destroyer had removed itself from the main battle front, and apparently unknown to Hephaestus, other destroyers were positioning themselves to prevent Hephaestus from breaking free. There were still far too many raiders swarming the sky, and many Colonial pilots started to become separated from their wing men, Matthew Lensherr was one of them. Both ships were almost within range of the outermost orbit of Cronus.

Matt looked down at his avionics panel and noticed he had less than a thousand pounds of fuel left, 100 rounds of 30 mm ammunition, and two missiles; one a Spectra Six, and the other a Picon Penetrator missile capable of 'penetrating' several layers of hull plating before detonating its warhead. He would have to make his last two missile strikes count before retreating back to _Galactica_ for refueling and reloading. Pulling out of a reverse loop he was perfectly lined up with the aft of hind quarter of the destroyer. He locked both missiles onto the main engine nacelles and upon hearing the dradis lock squeezed the trigger. Twin missiles streaked off their rails.

As fate would have it, Commandant Leiter ordered a full barrage of defensive fire the moment Hephaestus pulled out of the reverse loop. The Spectra six missile was hit head on and detonated less than 150 meters from where they were launched, the second missile evaded the flak and struck its target. The speed of the viper's three voracity engines closes the distance very quickly and Lensherr flies right through the explosive shock wave, the sounds of fragmentation striking the fuselage of his beloved viper _Nemesis_. Audible alarms fill the cockpit indicating massive system failures throughout avionics. The viper soon spins around leaving the aft facing forward and racing towards Cronus where the ship is soon caught in the planet's gravitational field.

Aboard the destroyer, the impact of the Picon Penetrator missile is felt all the way up towards the bridge, followed soon by an explosion that violently rocked the ship. "Damage report!" barked Leiter.

"Primary engines have been knocked out as well as major damage to maneuvering thrusters sir. We're heading straight for that planet, twenty seconds until we breach their outer orbit." reported the helmsman. Like Lensherr's viper, the command destroyer was now caught within the gravitational pull of Cronus with serious damage to propulsion that normally would have guided the warship safely out of orbit.

The two ships soon reentered the atmosphere and Hephaestus realized he was in serious trouble if he couldn't bring his bird around nose first. The stick was sluggish to respond to the direction he moved it in. Utilizing his maneuvering thrusters he was finally able to correct the situation, but nearly every warning light was flashing, and the alarms were starting to distract him, he cut the master switch to all audible alarms.

"Krypter, krypter, krypter...Hephaestus declaring an emergency."

Nina had already started to throttle up at the first sound of Lensherr's distress call much to Niko's surprise. "Betty what are you doing?"

"Hephaestus came back to help us out Niko, now he's in trouble." responded Nina curtly.

"We've got some serious damage, I don't think we should risk planet reentry."

Before Nina could respond, the ship took a direct hit to the port missile pod; with two missiles still in the launcher it exploded violently, causing the articulating boom that it was attached to to snap and imbed itself into port wing. There was no way Nina could reenter the planet's atmosphere to assist Matt, he was on his own until someone else could break free of the battle to help, and that was not very likely anytime soon.

With two raiders bearing down on them, and a crippled raptor at her control Nina silently mouthed a prayer to gods she wasn't even sure she believed in anymore. She was pointing towards Cronus, and could see Leiter's destroyer enter the atmosphere. Punching in a series of commands she then fired off her remaining two missiles in Leiter's direction in one last attempt to extract a small sliver of vengeance.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25.

D'Anna gingerly ran her slender fingers across the top bar of the baby's crib, the highly polished ivory-colored crib was made of fine Caprican oak. The baby's bedroom had been situated on the east side of their lakeside cabin. Hephaestus had chosen one of the nicest spots along the pristine lake to make their new home. The home contained no military memorabilia, but was quite rustic and simple. Horses roamed the four hectares of land and there were assorted farm animals that Matthew insisted upon. She smiled and realized that you could take the man out of Aerilon, but you could not take the Aerilon out of the man.

The Cylon ability of 'projection' is what made her time in _Galactica's_ brig bearable. Her ability to mentally escape the dark gray confines of glass and steel filled her day with hope that one day she would actually be physically free of this cell, free to live life with the human who dared to fall in love with her, and she with him and raise the child now growing within her. The master bedroom had floor to ceiling glass windows and a large four poster bed that Matt would make by hand. The bright sun blinked in and out and she brought herself back to reality. The overhead lights were flickering, and she could feel the subtlest tremor to the deck beneath her. The brig was nestled in the very center of the Battlestar, so whatever was going on outside the ship had to be fairly intense if she was feeling the impacts all the way in the center of the _Galactica_.

**Galactica CIC.**

"Admiral we're taking heavy ordinance from the Basestar!" informed the tactical officer.

"Make sure our armed civilian ships do not engage the Basestar, with the addition of the three ships from Cronus, advise them to keep the Eastern Alliance destroyers off balance." ordered Adama. _Galactica's_ main batteries continued to hammer away at Cavil's command Basestar as the second Basestar was attempting to flank them. General Xalain detected the 2nd Basestar's attempts to get in close and broke off to intercept. Their main guns continuously firing.

Nina saw the dreaded singular red flashing pulse that passed for an eye on the Cylon raider bearing down on her crippled raptor, she couldn't outrun it, and she had no missiles left to defend her and sleepwalker with. Death in combat was something she always expected, but this felt wrong, she didn't expect the icy cold embrace of death to come so soon, not before finding Earth. Two mini flashes appeared briefly beneath the raider as the bio mechanical monstrosity launched its own missiles. They streaked towards her at blinding speed, yet Nina followed their movement as if they were moving in slow motion. She briefly closed her eyes to await the impact when her entire craft was buffeted by an explosion and subsequent shock wave. Her eyes snapped open in time to watch the unmistakable aft view of a Mk. II viper streak past her. Whoever it was destroyed the incoming missiles now was engaging the raider who fired it.

"Betty – Prometheus...you're in the clear, get back to the bucket before someone blows your ass out of the stars. Lt. Dennis "Sky" Walker's call sign was Prometheus, but most aboard _Galactica_ knew him as "Sky," a nickname that few if any knew the origins of. Silver Spar's assistant squadron leader appeared on Prometheus' six and took out the second raider effortlessly. Nina worked her controls and brought her raptor in on final approach on _Galactica's _starboard landing bay. Prometheus stayed on her wing the entire way as the point defense turrets ceased firing to allow them entry. Once Nina was on the deck Prometheus continued on throughout the length of the flight pod and exited the other end and back into battle.

The wraiths were cutting a swath through the Cylon forces, allowing the Colonials time to rearm and refuel their fighters. The odds were still against the humans, but miraculously they were holding their own, and inflicting serious casualties on the enemy.

Prometheus was just clearing the 'Alligator's head' of the Galactica when he found himself on the defensive with three raiders attempting to catch him in the dreaded Cylon pinwheel that claimed so many viper pilots throughout history. Gambler and Starbuck were once again airborne and Starbuck saw the lone Silver Spar under attack.

"Gambler – Starbuck, we've got a trio bearing down on a Mk. II at ten o'clock high...I'm in!"

"Starbuck – Gambler...I'm on your wing." The two members of Blue squadron depressed their thruster pedals to the firewall and took off to assist their comrade. Prometheus couldn't shake the raider fire, his viper took several hits but remained combat worthy. Dennis Walker was a seasoned viper pilot with well over one hundred kills to his name prior to this battle, but the raiders seemed to adapt to every one of his moves, not an encouraging sign. One more hit took out his high engine which reduced his speed significantly, the same blast severely damaged the stabilizer that was attached to it. Prometheus made a dash for _Galactica's_ landing bay, the raiders hot on his trail.

Gunners attempted to give him cover fire, but all four fighters were within _Galactica's_ security envelope now. Lt. Walker felt a brief rush of relief as he started to cross the threshold into the cavernous opening of the port flight pod. That sensation was replaced by the devastation of Cylon cannon fire shredding his viper to pieces. He felt the searing white hot pain of the round enter from between his shoulder blades and exit from his chest. He placed his fingertips to the exit wound and merely stared at it. He was already dead, his brain had yet to relay the message to his body. The viper slammed nose first into the deck and bounced up into the ceiling of the pod causing massive structural damage to both decking and steel support members. The viper exploded sending pieces of fuselage in all directions, one striking a refueling truck that was currently refueling a Mk. VII viper from Blue squadron. That explosion caused the Mk VII viper to explode, killing nearby ground crew and pilot immediately.

The raiders were now within the flight pod and firing wildly at anything that moved. Starbuck and Gambler roared into the pod and targeted the raiders, being careful to avoid hitting anything else. Gambler sliced one raider in half, causing it to plunge to the deck in a crumpled heap. The zero gravity within the pod carried the crumpled raider to the other end of the pod before allowing it to drift into space like the refuse it was. Starbuck made short work of the second raider as the third continued down the length of the pod and attempted escape out the forward section. Gambler would have none of that and gave chase.

"Mother fraker thinks it's actually going to get away?" hissed Gambler through clenched teeth. He saw the devastation caused by these raiders and was not about to let those deaths go unavenged. The raider didn't make it very far as Gambler unleashed both Thraxon cannons into it. 30 mm colonial rounds shred the raider mercilessly.

Hephaestus burned through the upper atmosphere at breakneck speed, he was lucky enough to bring his ship around nose first before atmospheric reentry burned him to a crisp. The viper was now coming in as it should, but he was piloting what amounted to a flying brick. Avionics was shutting down, and he could smell the familiar acrid stench of an electrical fire. Wisps of smoke broke out from behind the gauges and underneath the control panel, he was in serious trouble. He reached to the right and pulled a red T-shaped handle that would discharge the bromochlorodifluoromethane, otherwise known as 'halon.' He wasn't concerned about the volatile extinguishant thanks to his pressurized flight suit and helmet keeping a nice supply of oxygen flowing. He pulled the handle three times until the fire was fully extinguished. He could see the city of Cronus on the horizon and hoped his viper might make it that far before having to eject. There was no way he was going to be able to land his ship. He glanced down at a small photo of D'Anna he had taken months ago and taped next to his altimeter gauge. He so desperately needed to survive this situation; she and their unborn child was waiting for him. Her green eyes always captivated him, he knew she wasn't truly human, but human enough to conceive a child. None of that mattered, he loved her and she loved him. His closest friends never quite understood the attraction to the humanoid Cylon, but they respected his decision and privacy.

Glancing at his altimeter which he prayed was still accurate he noticed he was getting close to a safe ejection point. His vector would put him at a ten o'clock position of the city, perhaps 15 miles out, almost near a large canyon that he briefly saw during a flyover a week ago. Water traveled through that canyon and emptied out into the main body of water along the coast. Minutes passed and Matt heard a massive wrenching of metal, then feeling the tearing of the port wing from the fuselage. The viper started to spin again and he knew now was the time to eject before he rolled and faced downward which would be extremely bad for ejection purposes. He grasped the large black and yellow ring beneath his legs and pulled up hard. The canopy blew off and the seat was soon thrown upward at incredible speed. Once the chute popped, Matt released his chest harness, allowing the seat to drop to the surface. The atmosphere was incredibly thin, and he didn't need any extra weight to bring him down to the surface faster than he would already be traveling.

He watched as his beloved, yet aging Mk. II viper spun uncontrollably to the surface. He had given her the name _Nemesis _when she was first assigned to him after the surprise attack on the colonies. Almost all of _Galactica's_ air wing of state-of-the-art Mk. VII's were destroyed by the Cylons who were able to infiltrate their on board computers and disable every system on board before destroying the aircraft utterly. Many seasoned pilots were lost that day, and the admiral made the obvious decision to reactivate the obsolete Mk. II vipers which were sitting in _Galactica's_ Starboard hanger bay as museum pieces. These forty year old vipers did not have the compromised navigational software that allowed ships that had them to be shut down like flipping a switch. A Mark II was capable of holding its own against many times its number of Raiders in the hands of a seasoned pilot. Since _Pegasus_ joined the Fleet, Mark IIs have been steadily phased out in favor of retrofitted Mark VIIs thanks to the now-departed _Pegasus'_ on board construction facilities to produce replacement Vipers. Lensherr twice declined to replace his Mk. II with a Mk. VII viper, now he wondered if that could have been a mistake.

Aboard the Eastern Alliance command destroyer, Commandant Leiter was advised of the safe ejection of the pilot that humiliated him before Leobin and his men. His ship had significant damage, and would need to land to inspect the extent of battle damage and initiate repairs. He _wanted _this pilot, he had suffered the indignity of having Cavil place Leobin aboard his command ship to keep an eye on him, but then to have a lone star fighter inflict enough damage to take him off the field of combat was too much for him to take.

"Helm, I want that parachute tracked, and when he sets down I want you to land this ship as close as terrain conditions allow."

"Will you be needing my Centurions to capture this pilot, Commandant?" asked Leobin, not attempting to mask his amusement at the thought of Leiter's growing obsession with the pilot.

"That won't be necessary...thank you though, but my men are more than capable of tracking and capturing one man." replied Leiter feigning gratitude at Leobin's less than altruistic offer.

Far above Lensherr and the Eastern Alliance Destroyer, the battle rages in space. Peacemaker's Red Aces squadron had inflicted serious damage to several of the Eastern Alliance destroyers, and destroying two. Throughout the battle, Captain Jon Horlach had stayed close to his lover; Lt. Marcia "Showboat" Case. She was a gifted pilot that came over from _Pegasus_ with him, but soon were separated by the deadly latticework of cannon fire. She was racking up some serious kills when the raiders turned their attention to her. At least eight raiders had engaged her, and they offered no quarter to the viper pilot. Their attacks were relentless, and her performance in the Mk. VII was one for endless discussion in the pilot's ready room. She deftly evaded several lethal passes with ease, but they were herding her away from the bulk of Colonial vipers and the Wraiths. A heavy barrage of cannon fire had struck the dorsal cannon on her fighter resulting in the complete destruction of the stabilizer. Damage warning sounded throughout the cockpit as she fought to regain control of her viper. Another barrage walked its way across the port engine, blowing it apart. Avionics was shutting down, power failure throughout the ship was occurring faster than Showboat could register.

"Viper 1622 declaring an emergency...this is Showboat, I'm in a world of felgercarb here!" said Case over the secured frequency. Peacemaker could hear the panic rising in her voice, glancing down at his dradis screen he located viper 1622's IFF. She was over thirty seconds away and losing power fast. He jammed the thruster pedal hard and completed a reverse loop. He headed for Showboat's last known location at full speed as Lt. Gwynn "Stingray" Sinclair and Lt. Booster "Wizard" Antilles formed up on his six.

"Showboat – Peacemaker...I'm on my way, thirty seconds out!"

Showboat's mouth formed a slight smile, she knew that her beloved Jon would be leaving a scorched trail to get to her. Unfortunately it was too late, she heard the missile lock warning blare in her headset. She depressed the transmitter button on her joystick and uttered what would be her final words. "I love you Jon...I'm sorry that we..." The transmission was cut as no less than six air to air missiles struck her viper. Jon Horlach lost his wife and daughter to the Cylons, it had taken him an incredibly long time to open himself up to another person, let alone another woman. He arrived just in time to see the missile's impacts. His scream had nearly blown out his lip microphone as he descended upon one of the offending raiders with murder in his heart.

Peacemaker had unleashed years of pent up fury upon this raider, slicing it in half with a heavy salvo of 30mm rounds. Wizard had engaged one head on, obliterating it before it had a chance to fire. Two more raiders fell to Stingray's twin MEC-A6 30mm Thraxon forward-firing kinetic energy weapons.

Wizard was enjoying the kill, there were so many raiders you couldn't miss, but his excitement was tempered by the loss of Showboat, and what the impact would be on his squadron leader Peacemaker. He had flown with Peacemaker countless times, yet was now witnessing an almost totally different pilot. He could see the Mk. VII that Horlach had christened _Punisher _tearing across the battlefield on full thrusters taking out Cylon raiders almost in a maniacal fashion. He keyed his transmitter to contact Stingray. "Stingray – Wizard... form up on me lass, I'm gonna stick with the skipper. At this fraking rate he's gonna burn through his fuel reserves and or ammunition."

As the battle raged over Cronus, Viper pilots Issa "Eos" Nimoy and Tev "Lancelot" Torbek were doing their best to keep the raiders off of the Cronus command ship. Eos glided her bird through the massive field of flak put up by the 12 inch guns to take out six raiders that zoomed in and out like Caprican bats. These warships were holding their own in the fight pretty well and each pilot who witnessed their prowess all thought what an addition they would make to the fleet on their quest for Earth. _Galactica_ had modified various civilian ships with point defense turrets and limited heavy 8 inch guns, but none of them were true warships. These ships from Cronus could take and give a beating. Best of all they couldn't be detected by Cylon Dradis.

There was one raider left in the immediate vicinity, and Eos was in hot pursuit. She had lined up her shot perfectly and was about to squeeze the firing trigger when the Cylon flipped 180 degrees and fired off two missiles. Eos barely evaded one but was struck by the other which blew the rear half of the viper completely away. The pain to her lower back was excruciating, and she barely remembered pulling the ejection handle prior to passing out.

Poseidon had witnessed Issa's ejection, and ordered her ECO Hustler to prepare to make a space walk to retrieve the obviously unconscious pilot. Hustler attached the D-ring of the titanium cable to his harness and waited by the door. Lancelot had ruthlessly finished off the last raider and repositioned himself to cover Poseidon's raptor while in rescue mode. She was low on fuel and completely out of missiles, she wanted to get this rescue over quickly and back on the deck of the 'bucket.'

Aboard the lead Basestar, Cavil followed every aspect of the battle, his hands submerged in the data stream as reports of killed or disabled raiders came in. His own Baseship was taking a pounding from the combined might of the unidentified warships positioned alongside _Galactica_ and her pathetically armed civilian ships. He was not pleased, he had expected the fight to have long been over by this point. A Basestar's propulsion was far superior to a Colonial Battlestar's, he had earlier directed the second basestar to flank the Colonials, but they were not pressing the attack as he felt they should. Battlestars were blunt instruments, capable of taking a massive beating, including a direct hit from a low yield nuclear weapon. The Basestar was sleek, faster and with over 700 raiders at their disposal should be more than a match for the aged _Galactica_. He turned to Doral who also was not pleased with the progress of the battle.

"Would you mind explaining to me why our dradis is unable to detect these new arrivals, or why our raiders cannot establish a firing lock on them?" asked a visibly irritated Cavil.

"I don't know why, Simon seems to hypothesize that it has something to do with the composition of the craft itself, perhaps a unique dradis-bending alloy?"

"Oh that is just wonderful," replied Cavil sarcastically. "I've waited years to get that antiquated wreck of Colonial technology in just such a predicament and someone comes riding to their rescue with technology we can't detect."

"Our raiders are making headway in destroying them, but they're doing it by visual lock as opposed to their computer-generated targeting systems." offered Doral.

"Well if we can sit around here for another day maybe we may finally get the upper hand." replied the number one model with even greater irritation.

"Perhaps if we call in reinforcements?" asked a Boomer model.

"The nearest Basestar is at least twelve hours away." replied Cavil dismissively. "No, we have sufficient firepower to carry the day, it's time to push that ridiculous pile of scrap metal to its limit.

The ground was coming up to meet him very quickly, far quicker than he expected. He could see the lights from the city to his right, looked about five to ten miles away. He attempted to guide his chute to flat ground yet his efforts resulted in bringing him towards the heavy wooded mountains that held a lone footbridge over a massive stream. Lensherr struck the first tree hard, by the second and third tree he was barely conscious. He hung suspended by the chute some twenty feet off the ground. His hand reached the release lever on his harness and he plummeted to the ground. His chin struck his left knee and blackness soon enveloped him.

Ghostrider and Apollo flew wingtip to wingtip through the maelstrom of raiders, it seemed like the battle would never let up. "Ghostrider – Apollo...the fact that we're still in this fight means we have a fraking chance, how are you holding up on necessities?"

"Apollo, I'm down to 200 rounds and one missile. Fuel load is approaching my reserves, I'm going to need to set down soon." replied Ghostrider.

"Those wraiths have bought us some serious breathing room, they're really taking it to the toasters." shot back _Galactica's_ CAG. "Get your scrawny ass back to _Galactica_ and refuel!"

**Galactica CIC**

Colonel Tigh had noticed the tide starting to turn in their favor. There were fewer raiders coming in to support the attacking Basestars. _Galactica_ had taken the best the Cylons had to offer and was still standing.

"Admiral the fact that more Basestars have yet to arrive leads me to believe there are none in range to call in for assistance." offered Tigh.

"They probably figured two Basestars with their complete raider compliments, including those piece of felgercarb Eastern Alliance pussies would be enough to take out a lone Battlestar. They couldn't have anticipated the presence of Cronus, never mind actual combat support from them. What surprises me is that they're still in the fight, whomever that Baseship commander is, they're persistent!"

After laying there for some minutes, Hephaestus started to come around. Every fiber of his being was in pain. Pushing off the hard ground he got too his feet, discarding the damaged helmet he retrieved his wireless radio. The hard landing had damaged it and he could not raise _Galactica_, or anyone else for that matter. He would have to head for high ground to get his bearings. Fifteen minutes into the climb he had to stop and catch his breath, the air on Cronus was so thin, there was no way the fleet could have made a home here. The familiar sound of an engine could be heard close by, he was still under the canopy of the high trees and could not see where it was coming from. He knew it didn't sound like Colonial or Cylon, so that meant it was from Cronus or the Eastern Alliance. Time to get moving again, he checked the rounds in the clip of his pistol and placed it back into his holster strapped to his right thigh.

By the time he reached the highest peak he could find he had a fairly decent view of the valley around him. His fears were confirmed, an Eastern Alliance destroyer had set down less than two miles east of him, he pulled out his small binoculars from his emergency pack and increased the magnification. Not enough to produce any great detail, but he was catching a glimpse of something shiny making its way through the vegetation, away from the ship at high speed.

"Centurions! Frak this is unexpected." said Lensherr to nobody in particular. He turned in the direction of the stream that would lead to the city and started to quick march. It would do him no good to run and get winded this soon. He finally made it to level ground and started to jog along the water's edge. He could feel the terrain starting to climb, the water was soon 10 feet below him and getting further down. About five hundred yards ahead he could see a bridge spanning the river that was now twenty to twenty-five feet below. If he could cross that bridge and destroy it he could buy serious time getting to the safety of the city. By the time he reached the foot of the bridge Lensherr was on his knees panting, he couldn't suck in enough oxygen to recover. It was taking all he had not to pass out. Destroying the bridge was going to be harder, much harder than he thought. He had no explosives, and breaking the planks that made up the floor would be time and energy consuming.

He stood up and stepped onto the bridge when the first Centurion appeared. Matt drew his pistol out with blinding speed and fired off a half dozen rounds. The first two struck the tree immediately behind and above the centurion. The remaining shots found their home in the skull. No effect. Between the distance and small arms ammunition he merely damaged the centurion slightly. The Cylons were not hampered by the thin atmosphere, and they caught up with him in record time. The second centurion fired off a warning salvo at the ground in front of Lensherr's feet. There was nowhere to run without getting picked off. Hephaestus placed the safety on his weapon and threw it to the ground. He raised his arms in surrender. The metallic monstrosities stood well over a foot higher than the six foot Lensherr. They studied him with their red optical scanner, awaiting Leobin and their human allies.

Lensherr stood upon the outside of the heavy timber foot bridge, looking downward at the fast-running water twenty five feet below him. His hands were tied behind him, his wrists bound by a thin cord that dug deep into his flesh. A thicker cord encircled his neck. It was attached to the large cross-member above his head. Standing upon the very end of a plank one of the Centurions ripped off from another part of the bridge, it was held in place by another of the heavy mechanical monstrosities. Matt assumed the Centurion, when ordered, would merely step aside, the plank would tilt, and he would tumble down six to eight feet before the cord stopped his descent, breaking his neck, or worse, leaving his neck unbroken which meant he would die a slow death by strangulation.

Leiter's cruel eyes fixated upon the helpless viper pilot. Matt ignored his gaze by closing his own eyes in order to collect his thoughts upon D'Anna and their unborn child. He could see her clearly in his mind's eye, their first meeting when she was posing as a reporter for Fleet News when nobody suspected her of being a Cylon. He soon finds himself laying in tall grass in a glade on New Caprica, the Cylons had discovered them two months earlier and were occupying the planet. D'Anna had approached him alone and unarmed to talk. Before he realized it he was kissing her, feeling her flawless body in his embrace. Her lips tasted sweet, he couldn't place the taste, but it didn't matter, all he wanted to do was continue to kiss her. He realized that she would never know what truly happened to him, sitting in that cell with their baby growing in her womb. He would never know his child, and that realization caused tears to gather in his eyes. Opening his eyes he looked down at the stream. "If only I could free my hands," he thought to himself, "I could throw off this damned noose and dive down into the stream and escape."

"Captain Lensherr, do you have any last words?" asked Leiter.

"Yes I do...you're a fraking traitor to the human race, and a stupid one at that." said Matt sternly. Leiter opened his mouth as if to reply when Matt continued. "Do you honestly believe the Cylons will keep you alive once they've destroyed the _Galactica?_ As soon as they've destroyed the last surviving Colonial Battlestar they're going to pick off the fleet one by one like a malicious child...then they're going to kill you and wipe out all of your colonies. You're being used, but I'll die with the satisfaction of knowing you won't be too far behind me." He glanced at Leobin who merely smiled.

"A moving speech young Captain, but now it is time to die. Only the strong survives, and the Eastern Alliance will be around for a very long time." Leiter turned towards the Centurion. "Centurion...stand aside!" The metallic killer just stood there, the red optical scanner flashing back and forth. Leiter looked confused and soon turned towards Leobin who in turn looked at the Centurion and nodded. As soon as the centurion stepped off the plank, Lensherr abruptly slid off the end and down to his death.

As Matthew Lensherr plummeted downward off the side of the bridge he briefly lost consciousness as if dead already. He awakened-hours later, it seemed to him, by the searing pain and tightness around his throat. He could not breath, and the pain traveled down his spine to every extremity in his body. He was aware of his body convulsing, spinning uncontrollably, then all of a sudden the heavy timber cross beam above him grew smaller with amazing speed, and soon all was cold and dark. With his senses restored to him he realized that the cord suspending him in the air had broken and he had fallen into the moving stream.

Miraculously he was able slip his hands free from the bonds that must have loosened upon impact with the water. He clawed at the cord around his neck, trying to remove it. He was under the water over thirty seconds now and he could feel the current pulling him downstream, he needed to get to the surface fast or he would surely perish. He felt as if his lungs would explode and soon he was able to pull off the noose. Immediately he beat the water with downward thrusts, forcing him to the surface. Once breaking the surface he engulfed the thin, yet precious air. He kept inhaling trying to fill his lungs.

Now in full command of senses almost preternaturally focused and aware, he looked up into the sky to see a large bird hundreds of feet above him. He could actually hear the crisp snapping of the feathered wings. The roar of the water did not seem to distract him from hearing the metallic clacking of the Centurion's long fingers retracting into the housings in the forearms, soon to be replaced by their weapons which they started firing immediately in his direction. He was almost four hundred yards downstream, yet could hear the footsteps on the bridge as Eastern Alliance soldiers ran to the side to be able to fire upon him. The rounds struck the water all around him, and for a moment, Lensherr thought he could actually see the rounds coming at him in slow motion. The near death experience surely was playing games with his mind as he rolled over and started to swim downstream a bit further. He needed to get the cords tied to his legs off, and he couldn't do that until he reached the banks of the stream. He made sure to get off on the opposite side of the steam.

He went over a small waterfall, upon breaking the surface he glanced towards the bridge which was still in view. Eastern Alliance soldiers and Cylon Centurions were now firing at will, he could see clearly the cold blue eyes of Leiter, the snarl on his lips as he was well on his way to escape. A long tree branch hung low over the water, he grabbed the thick branch and pulled himself along its length until he reached the muddy shore.

Something was different, he wasn't breathing as heavy as he should in the thin atmosphere of Cronus. He removed the cord from his ankles and broke into a run. If he followed the stream he should come close to the city walls by nightfall. Two hours had passed and the scenery seemed to have not changed a bit, something Matt had found very unsettling. By nightfall he was near exhaustion, he had not seen Colonial or Cylon ships overhead since his escape from the bridge, not even a shooting star. Either the battle was still raging, or they had lost. By now he felt sure he should have the city walls in view, something was wrong. He finally found an opening in the thick wooded area, it was a trail and he decided to follow it. There had been no sign of pursuit, there had been no sign of life at all. His eyes caught a glimpse of light through the darkness, a faint flicker of hope. He ran for the light and soon found himself within a clearing. The stars overhead were gone, "impossible" thought Lensherr. About fifty yards ahead was a cabin, a very familiar cabin. He came to an abrupt halt as he got within twenty feet and was stunned. It was _his_ cabin! The cabin he spent hours describing to D'Anna while laying beside her in her cell aboard _Galactica_. This was impossible, the door and front window were exactly as he described it to her, right down to the stone chimney for the fireplace.

He cautiously stepped onto the wooden stairs and placed his hand onto the door knob. He slowly turned the knob and opened the door. He could smell the roast cooking in the kitchen, the smell of paprika and parsley stood out to his sense of smell. He walked through the great room where two huge logs were burning in the fireplace. The kitchen he knew was dead ahead. Walking through the threshold he stopped cold by the sight before him. D'Anna was sitting at the table nursing an infant, and his good friend Jon Horlach was behind the counter cutting vegetables. D'Anna looked at him as if expecting him all the while. Her face was a mask of sadness. She didn't speak, she did not have to. Her look was one of immense sorrow and pain. Jon had stepped out from behind the counter and put his hand on Matt's shoulder. He spoke in an unusual tone, the voice was ethereal.

"Don't worry my friend, they will be cared for...always!" Lensherr pulled back, unable to fully grasp what he was experiencing. His old friend returned to cutting vegetables and looked up. "I'm so sorry Matt, your time here is over." He wanted to ask what he meant by that, and quickly looked at D'Anna who seemed to slowly disperse like sand in the wind.

In a panic he reached out to her as if to hold her together, it was then he felt a sharp jolt to the back of his neck; a staggering incandescent light envelopes him and the cabin soon disappears. Finding himself suddenly in lightlessness and laconism, Matthew Lensherr was dead; his muscular body, with a broken neck, swung back and forth beneath the heavy timbered bridge on Cronus that he never escaped from, it was a dream, or had he been a Cylon, it would have been described as projection. The only witnesses to his violent death had been the Cylons and fellow human beings who would not see the ultimate truth until it would be too late. Leobin walked over to Lensherr's lifeless body and seemed to study it for a moment. "Yes...I was correct, you really didn't belong!"

"What do you mean?" demanded Leiter who had heard the humanoid Cylon.

"Oh nothing...just a conversation the late Captain and I had once." said Leobin smiling. The smile completely unnerved the eastern Alliance Commandant, what was worse was that he knew that Leobin knew it unnerved him.

The centurions started to walk towards the path they originally entered from when a grapefruit-sized metallic object rolled between their metal legs. Before either could react the object exploded sending deadly shrapnel in all directions. The centurions were utterly destroyed, as were two Eastern Alliance soldiers. Leiter grabbed his face and dropped to the ground in agony, a piece of shrapnel had lodged in his left eye.

The remaining soldiers raised their weapons and scanned the treeline frantically to find their attackers. One by one they were picked off until only Leobin and Leiter remained alive. Out of a dense growth of palm-like plants stepped Mazzax; Overlord of Cronus. Two equally large bodyguards remained at the treeline with their weapons aimed at the heads of the two offworlders.

"You defile my world with your bloodshed, outworlders!" said Mazzax angrily. You kill a defenseless pilot who was shot down, have you no honor?"

"Honor? He was the enemy, and where I come from you KILL the enemy, as we will you!" bleated Leiter as he wiped the blood from his now-missing eye.

With lightning speed, Leobin had closed the distance with Mazzax as he brought his heavy broadsword down with equally blinding speed. The Cylon caught Mazzax's wrist and held it with incredible strength. If the Overlord was in pain he did not show it. He followed up with a forearm strike to Leobin's face, breaking the nose with his long chain mail gauntlet. The armor Mazzax wore weighed close to seventy pounds, but someone watching the exchange would never know that because he moved with incredible speed and strength in it. Leobin's nose was grotesquely disfigured, it was clearly broken and blood poured down the mass of flesh and synthetic cartilage. His piercing blue eyes flashed wide, and with a smile he whispered "Not nearly enough meat-sack!" Mazzax could actually feel the pressure on his wrist through the chain mail and knew it would soon break if he didn't break the hold. A head butt to the same broken nose had the desired effect, Leobin momentarily loosened his grip and Mazzax was able to break free. He could barely hold the great sword in his hand, something that would hinder a lesser man, but not the ruler of Cronus. He merely switched hands.

"You see my friend, I am equally deadly with a sword in either hand." said Mazzax. Leobin lunged towards Mazzax howling like a wounded animal, with his rage and momentum he never felt the blade enter his body from just below the neck. The heavy broadsword cut through muscle and clavicle until it stopped somewhere in the thoracic cavity. He looked directly into Mazzax's eyes and spoke.

"I shall...return...not over..." said the Cylon as his eyes rolled back into his skull. With effort, Mazzax pulled his sword free from the dead Cylon and turned towards Leiter.

The Eastern Alliance commandant leveled a pistol at Mazzax, unfortunately with his compromised vision he never saw the heavy blade fall. It wasn't until he saw the actual severed arm still clutching the weapon at his feet did he become aware of the injury. Mazzax was impressed that Leiter did not scream, he watched as the maimed traitor to humanity merely clutched the stump and dropped to one knee. "I guess this is where you too download into a new body?" asked Mazzax.

"I am not a machine!" sneered Leiter. "I am a man, an officer in the Eastern Alliance!"

"Human? You sided with the Cylons against your fellow humans?" yelled Mazzax imperiously. "By the light of Apollo I should run you through right here and now, you daggit!" Mazzax had stayed his mighty hand and called for his bodyguards to come forward. "Remove this traitorous piece of refuse from my sight, we're returning to the city immediately, we'll turn him over to Adama for him to deal with this filth!" ordered the Overlord. The two men dragged the still bleeding Leiter away as Mazzax walked up to the bridge. He felt great sorrow upon glancing at the young pilot hanging lifeless from his own bridge. He grabbed at the rope and pulled the lifeless corpse up. He carried the body over his shoulder back to the transport that would take them back to the city walls.

The tide had turned completely, reinforcements from Cronus had leveled the playing field, and the Cylons were taking heavy losses. Adama had taken _Galactica_ toe to toe with the second Basestar and destroyed it with help from General Xalain's forces. Cavil was stunned by the turn of events and ordered a complete withdrawal of his remaining forces. Two Eastern Alliance destroyers drifted too badly damaged to jump away with the retreating Cylon forces. They were immediately boarded by Marines and troops from Cronus. There was no resistance, the captains of each ship knew they were hopelessly outnumbered, outgunned and now relied on the very people they were trying to kill to survive so far from Paradeen.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26.

Two hours after the conclusion of the battle, Adama had met with Tigh and Xalain in his quarters, the conversation was grim.

"General, you're going to have to convince Mazzax that this is the only route open to him." said Tigh.

"Cronus has been our home for two millenia, Colonel. How simple do you think my task will be?" replied Xalain.

"The Cylons are undoubtedly aware of the presence of your city on Cronus. The humanoid Cylon that your overlord reported to have killed on the surface no doubt resurrected aboard one of the two Basestars and will report everything he knew. The odds that he resurrected on the destroyed Basestar is about fifty fifty, but with the destruction of that ship, whats to say they didn't all download straight to the surviving Basestar that escaped?" said Adama.

"The end result may be the same either way, the Cylons will return with their entire armada, and you and I both know that ultimately their numbers will overwhelm your forces. They might even nuke your planet from the safety of high orbit before you could launch a single wraith." offered Tigh. The general contemplated their arguments, he knew they were right.

"Listen, you have several large warships and the with two captured destroyers that apparently are FTL equipped they would make a good addition militarily to our fleet.. You can set the atmospheric controls to the desired levels on the destroyers, but we have to find a way to house all of your people somewhere. We obviously cannot mix our two people due to the atmospheric differences." said Adama.

"Our population is not as great as your fleet, and we do have several large spacecraft at our disposal, but living conditions would be hellish with the cramped quarters." explained Xalain. "That is providing Mazzax even agrees to such a plan." His thoughts were extremely jumbled by the higher oxygen content, and he was having a hard time focusing as if extremely intoxicated. He pulled out a black mask that hung on his weapons belt, it contained a small circular cartridge on each side, and seemed to assist in his breathing

"He may not have much of a choice, the Cylons will return enmasse, of that you can be certain. I can talk with President Roslin about transferring the population of one or two of our civilian ships in order to accommodate your people. This is going to be a massive undertaking, evacuating the entire city of Cronus as fast as we possibly can." said Bill.

"I will relay our conversation to the Overlord, the final decision will be his alone. The imperial shuttle should be arriving within the hour, I believe both our presence will be required."

"Sadly, yes...it is!" The meeting was over, and Adama was left alone to change into his dress gray tunic. The fleet was still at the emergency jump coordinates protected by two armed civilian ships and Blue squadron and would remain there until further notice.

**Galactica Brig.**

The door to the cell opened and D'Anna sat up from her daily projection away from confinement. Captain Jon Horlach entered without guards. He stood there gazing down at her, and did not look forward to his duties.

"Peacemaker? Why are you here, where is Matthew?" asked D'Anna.

He walked up close to the bed, and was not startled when D'Anna stood up. They were almost the same height. He had never been this close to a skin job before, he hated Cylons with a passion. They killed his wife and daughter in the surprise attacks on the Colonies, and just when he allowed himself to fall in love again the Cylons killed her too; Marcia "Showboat" Case.

"D'Anna..." saying her name was not easy for him. She was not human, she was a machine, but he was here for Matt's sake and he held his emotions in check. "Hephaestus was my closest friend, he would have wanted me to come see you."

D'Anna caught the past-tense references to Matthew twice, her mouth dropped and she felt her eyes swell with tears. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes. He was shot down over Cronus, captured by your Centurions and soldiers from the Eastern Alliance and executed! They fraking hung him by the neck like a criminal from a bridge." He waited for the words to sink in before continuing. He watched as her green eyes fill with tears as she shook her head back and forth as if in denial. "One of your own was present at the execution, Leobin Conoy. He, along with almost the entire band of murderers were taken out by the ruler of Cronus. They took the Eastern Alliance commandant into custody, where he will be turned over to us."

"Our child will never know its father..." whispered D'Anna as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Horlach was surprised by this, he had been fighting back his own tears over the death of his friend and was surprised to find himself feeling sorry for the woman before him. In an unexpected move, he moved closer to D'Anna and embraced her. She started to sob in his arms and he held her tightly.

"Yes it will D'Anna, Matthew Lensherr will never be forgotten, I promise you that." She pulled back and looked at him directly in the eyes.

"Why? Matt has told me before how much you hate the Cylons, how you and many of his other friends didn't approve of our relationship. Why would you help us?"

"Because Matthew Lensherr was my friend, my brother...there is nothing I wouldn't do for him. He would have wanted someone to take care of you and his child after his death, he knew how much I hated you and your kind, but once asked me to look after you if something should ever happen to him. I promised him I would, even though I never thought anything would ever happen to him. He had this glow about him every time he flew off into combat, like a personal force field that you knew nothing would get through. I guess his luck ran out, and the force field faded."

"The woman I love is gone, taken from me by the Cylons. The man you love was taken from you by the same Cylons, the question is what do we do now?"

"What happens is I continue to rot in this cell until the time I have to deliver my baby, what happens to it and me after that is in the hands of your Cylon-hating Admiral."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it Ms. Biers!" came the voice of William Adama standing in the doorway of the cell. For the time being I'd like you and Captain Horlach to join me on the starboard hanger bay. Matt's body will be arriving in twenty minutes, I think it appropriate if you were there."

D'Anna stepped forward and held her wrists up to Adama. "Very well, shall we proceed?" said D'Anna, tears still running down her cheeks. Adama gently pushed her arms down.

"Manacles won't be necessary, this is a dignified service and I won't dishonor Hephaestus by having you dragged there in chains. Two armed Marines will accompany us, along with Peacemaker. I trust that will be sufficient?"

"More than sufficient, Admiral. Thank you." They departed the brig together and made their way to the hanger bay as Mazzax's imperial shuttle was on final approach. Senior officers and viper pilots were assembled in tight formation to welcome aboard their departed brother. Enlisted personnel and hanger crews had assembled directly behind the pilots and officers. As the shuttle was lowered into the bay the crews came to attention in preparation to render honors. The shuttle door opened and six black-clad troopers wearing the same portable breathing mask as General Xalain carried out the coffin bearing Matthew Lensherr's body. The pall bearers stopped before six Colonial viper pilots who were in position to relieve the troopers from Cronus of their charge. In military precision the casket was transferred to the viper pilots who carried it up the main aisle. A sea of right arms flew up in unison to offer their comrade a final salute. The pall bearers slowed to a stop before Admiral Adama and D'Anna. Her tears flowed and she reached out to touch the casket. After a few seconds she removed her hand and stepped back. Adama was surprised to see Peacemaker place a reassuring hand upon her quivering shoulder. He wondered where that would eventually lead.

In the days that followed, Matthew Lensherr was given a proper Colonial military funeral, his dog tags were presented to D'Anna who was allowed to again leave her cell. As before, she was in the presence of Peacemaker, something that did not go unnoticed by many. Overlord Mazzax was forced to agree with Adama's assessment of their security. The Cylons would be returning soon, they would not make the same mistake again, this time they would come with their entire fleet.

Much to the surprise of William Adama, Mazzax had many more ships than Xalain led on. At least twenty ships carried the population of Cronus, food, water, medical supplies and most importantly...vast quantities of the metallic ore that made detection by dradis impossible. Not only could new vipers be built, but long put off repairs to civilian ships could now be made. There would be meetings between the scientists of both tribes on how to quickly adapt to the higher oxygen content that was easier for them to adapt to instead of the reverse. The trip to Earth would be long, so they had plenty of time to come up with a solution.

_**From the Adama Journals:**_

_**A new position to the quorum was created to accommodate the tribe from Cronus, and with the entire fleet together again, we resume the quest for Earth. I feel great relief that Galactica now has her load lightened by the addition of three heavily-armed warships from Cronus, and the two captured Alliance Destroyers that are manned by General Xalain's soldiers. **_

_**Eventually plans will be laid out to convert the largest civilian ship into a launch platform for the wraiths that sit idle in Galactica's port flight pod. There were concerns about a conflict between the President of the Colonies and Mazzax when it came to fleet matters, but all agreed that it was a subject that would be addressed cautiously and deliberately Something that is just fine with me.**_

_**Eastern Alliance Commandant Leiter has been remanded to the prison ship where he will remain in our custody for the foreseeable future. For now the fleet has welcomed its long lost brothers and sisters from Kobol. Our journey resumes.**_

_Epilogue._

The tribunal was drawing to a close, and president Laura Roslin presided over the most difficult job of her life, the prosecution of her Vice President, Tom Zarek for the crimes of murder, terror, and abuse of office. The case had proven less difficult that she expected with the full cooperation of the accused. Zarek denied nothing, and provided an amazingly clear and concise record of his participation in the organization of the terror group known as the _Thunderbolts of Zeus. _

"Mr. Zarek, do you have a statement you would like to provide to the quorum and Admiral Adama?"

Tom Zarek stood ramrod straight, adjusting his glasses he flashed a slight grin to the twelve Quorum members and the lone military representative on the tribunal and spoke calmly. "_Madam President," _he let the words roll off his tongue smooth as silk as he winked to her. "and members of the tribunal. The charges against me are indeed accurate, and I freely admit my guilt and will accept the judgment of this august body of representatives.

My sole regret is that an attempt was made to assassinate Captain Matthew Lensherr, something I never would have authorized or condoned no matter what he did. I will live the remainder of my life, _however long you all decide that will be,_" he said looking directly at the admiral. "wondering if I made the correct decisions starting back on New Caprica. What I did on New Caprica I did because the time, and circumstances were correct to do so. Once we were liberated from the occupation and back on our path to Earth I realized that we lost far too many precious lives, and we could not lose any more if we were to preserve what was once a great civilization. Then you issued a Presidential pardon covering just about damn near everything this side of being a cantankerous blowhard," the last words he said while looking directly at a very irritable Admiral Adama. "and the men in the Thunderbolts obviously ignored the pardon and resumed their activities until I was forced to rectify the situation."

"_Rectify by murder?"_ asked Adama.

"Madam President...didn't I have the floor?" asked Zarek. The silence was uncomfortable for all but Roslin and the Admiral, then Zarek resumed speaking. Roslin nodded and Zarek continued. "The only way to stop the Thunderbolts without revealing my own involvement was to kill them off, these were men rabidly anti-Cylon, and would never stop. You may take my life by the end of this day, but my soul will be judged by the gods, and in their great wisdom I will be vindicated!" For a moment, Adama thought Zarek's charm would weaken the resolve of some of the members, and prior to the start of the tribunal it was made clear to him that a death sentence would be carried out only after a unanimous decision.

The group adjourned for less than thirty minutes. Tom Zarek had sealed his own fate when he freely admitted guilt to all of the charges leveled against him. There was no logical reason for anyone to not find him guilty. Filing back into the room the tribunal had taken their seats, Zarek sat alone at the defense table as he had throughout the entire proceedings, refusing any legal representation on his behalf. He truly believed that he would escape the death penalty, that someone would have understood his motives and decide that it would be a waste to kill a man who only wanted to protect his people from the Cylons, and those who would collaborate with them.

"Thomas Zarek...you will stand and receive your judgment." said Roslin. Zarek stood, smiled and adjusted his shirt. "Thomas Zarek, former Vice President of the twelve colonies of Kobol, the tribunal has found you guilty on all counts. The sentence under the articles of colonization for your crimes is death!"

"Really Laura? There wouldn't happen to be a possibility of another vote, would there?"

"I'm afraid not Mr. Zarek, may the gods have mercy on your soul." she replied. Adama stood up and walked around the table to stand before the condemned.

Admiral Adama spoke directly to the former vice president, the expression on his face revealed pity for a man who threw everything away. "Against my advice, President Roslin has decided you will be given the choice of how you will die."

Zarek looked sideways for a moment as if in contemplation before he replied "Can I take for granted that "naturally" _isn't_ one of my options?" Adama did not even answer, he just frowned and shook his head. Signaling the Marine guard to approach, he instructed them to remove him to the port flight pod. The sentence would be carried out immediately, the only witnesses were the Admiral, President, ship's doctor and the firing squad. Within an hour Tom Zarek was standing twenty feet inside a launch tube. His arms and legs had been bound, and a black hood was offered and politely refused. He wanted to look his executioners in the eyes.

"Make ready," shouted Adama, the six marines raised their weapons.."take aim..._" _red laser sites locked onto his center mass.

"Not too late to change your minds folks!" said Zarek.

"_Fire!_" The rounds tore into his chest with incredible accuracy, the shot grouping was superb, and the exit wound was the size of a dinner plate. Zarek crumpled to the floor. The ship's doctor examined the still body and pronounced him dead. As the small gathering dispersed and returned to their assigned duties, Adama stepped into the "shooters" booth, a small room that contained the controls for the launching of Galactica's vipers. After closing the blast doors, he inserted a key and turned the switch that opened the blast doors at the far end of the launch tube that led into the vacuum of cold space. The sudden decompression sucked the lifeless body of the former terrorist turned vice president out into space where he would drift forever.

Twelve hours later and dripping with resurrection gel, Tom Zarek paces the floor of the chamber, his voice booming. "Can you believe what they did to me? ME!" stammered Zarek, a glob of resurrection gel shooting off his lip and hitting the Boomer model directly in the eye.

"Frak, I hate getting this stuff shot in my eyes, do you know how long it takes to get out of my hair and lashes you inconsiderate bastard?" yelled Boomer.

Cavil stepped forward shaking his head as if highly amused at Boomer's predicament. "Relax Boomer, this isn't the first time you've had that happen, I'm sure it won't be the last. Ah Mr. Vice President, welcome back." said Cavil producing an exaggerated bow.

"Former Vice President!" corrected Zarek. "Those bastards removed me from office and then killed me, can you imagine? I seem to have recovered all of my memories, the initial shock at resurrection was short lived. Now what do we do, I was the last person they expected to be a Cylon?"

"Relax old friend, we still have another asset in place. The game is far from over!"

_**Bonus Chapter - Seven Months later**_

Galactica cruised cautiously through the asteroid field, her massive dorsal cannons unleashing a devastating fury upon the larger chunks of rocky debris. The two former Eastern Alliance destroyers were riding her wake cutting the blasted chunks down even further with their smaller point defense turrets. The corridor was wide enough for the fleet to make its way through, and whenever the corridor appeared in danger of closing one of the other armed warships formerly from Cronus would repeat the same tactics the Battlestar had employed. Another route would have taken them well out of the way of the system they were trying to reach. A massive gaseous nebula spanned way beyond scanner range, the asteroid field seeming the only logical route.

Within the CIC Admiral Adama monitored the situation closely, his Battlestar was well able to withstand most asteroid impacts within reason, the smaller, less shielded ships of the fleet could not.

"Admiral, Dradis sweeps indicate a thinning of the field ahead of us, it looks like we're coming to the other side." informed Dualla.

"Alright, signal the _Hyperion_, have them launch Delta squadron on an advanced recon." ordered Adama. "I want Blue and Red Aces in the tubes on alert status in the event they run into something." added the admiral. The _Hyperion_ was formerly a Colonial transport within the fleet, aside from _Galactica_ she was the longest ship in the fleet. A month after the escape from Cronus, the civilian population was removed and reassigned to other ships in the fleet as a complete overhaul was made to turn the ship into a super space carrier that would house the black Wraith fighters. Renamed after one of the twelve Titans of their religion, as were most of their combat vessels, a new addition to the fleet's defenses was born. The ship's environmental controls were reconfigured to provide the life support that the former inhabitants of Cronus were accustomed to. Catapults were not needed as were the case on _Galactica_. The Wraiths merely sat in the front hanger, magnetized to the decking. When the massive bay doors in front of the hanger opened the fighters would detach from the deck and exit the ship.

Production of newly minted vipers began immediately, they were constructed out of the black metallic ore that was provided from Cronus. The new vipers were an advancement over the Mk. VII vipers that were the last to ever leave a Colonial assembly line on Caprica. These newly designed vipers were classified as the Mark VIII. One complete squadron had been assembled, flight tested and recently put in service. The vipers were black with crimson piping. The new squadron was designated Black Nebula, and command of the newly minted squadron fell to Captain Kara "Destiny" Fan. Lt. Warren "Eagle One" Rucks was her assistant squadron leader.

Three additional Raptors of the same Dradis-absorbing material had been constructed with a fourth on the way. Lt. Junior grade Niko "Sleepwalker" Stratos had been promoted and assigned as pilot to Raptor 8; an older model, while seniority prevailed in getting the newer Raptors. It was a surprise to all how well former Overlord Mazzax adjusted to his new position within the fleet. He commanded the former imperial warship _Pythia, _named after the priestess who presided over the Oracle of Apollo at Delphi. He voluntarily ceded his role as Overlord and accepted the position of Quorum representative for his people. The sign of a true leader observed Adama. President Roslin had wisely allowed Mazzax a frier hand in dealing with the affairs of his people, even though she was the President for the entire fleet, she realized that it could not possibly be a smooth transition from being absolute ruler, to a lesser position of power and authority.

D'Anna Biers gave birth to a hybrid child fathered by the late Matthew Lensherr. She gave birth to a daughter she named Aurora. William Adama realized early on that the brig was no place for a pregnant woman, even if she was a Cylon and confined her to the hospital ward. After the delivery, Adama and the President had decided to commute their Cylon prisoner's sentence, and allowed her to remain free with modest restrictions. An old storage compartment had been converted to a private cabin for her and her daughter.

D'Anna had provided crucial information that helped advance their understanding of hyper light jumps, while their available technology only allowed for modest improvements, the critical information provided by D'Anna doubled the range of the fleet's jump capability. Whatever tactical information she may have possessed about the Cylon's fleet and their patrol schedules were most likely altered the moment it was learned that that particular "three" model turned traitor and resided with the humans. No doubt the rest of her line was 'boxed.' To the surprise of all, Red Aces squadron leader Jon Horlach had spent much of his off duty time with D'Anna, and was present during her delivery. His vow to his late friend to look after D'Anna after his death was honored. The relationship was not easy, and it took time for Peacemaker to feel comfortable with her. Most observers noted the two getting closer, and that eventually their complicated relationship would advance to a next stage.

Wraiths from Delta squadron slipped from their base ship into the ever-thinning asteroid field. The slid through the passing space rock with ease. Exiting the field they put at least 50 yards between each other and started to probe the areas.

**Galactica CIC**

"Wraiths have emerged on the other side of the field, Admiral!" informed Dualla.

Tigh stepped up to the admiral with an optimistic look on his face. "Looks like a clean system, and luck is smiling upon us."

"Dradis contacts?"

"Negative sir, the only contact is our wraiths via the Colonial transponders." Now that the wraiths were part of the fleet's defenses, each one had been installed with a Colonial IFF that could be turned off to ensure full stealth mode if need be.

"Colonel, I want two stealth raptors to make four short FTL hops to see what is ahead of us, I can't imagine the Cylons being this far out, but I want nothing left to chance."

"Affirmative Admiral, I have Poseidon and Starbuck on standby."

"Wish them luck, and instruct them to launch. Let's see what this system has to offer us."


End file.
